Her mother, who had also heard the steps in the hall, got up
quickly and drew an old armchair up to the fireplace. Then turning
to her husband, she said: "Shall you tell him about it to-night?"

"Yes," answered the schoolmaster, "as soon as I can get round to
it."

Presently the pastor came in, half frozen and glad to be in a warm
room where he could sit by an open fire. He was very talkative, as
usual. It would be hard to find a more likable man than the parson
when he came in of an evening to chat about all sorts of things,
big and little. He spoke with such ease and assurance of everything
pertaining to this world, that one could scarcely believe that he
and the dull preacher were one and the same person. But if you
happened to speak to him about spiritual things he grew red in the
face, began fishing for words, and never said anything that was
convincing, unless he chanced to mention that "God governs wisely."

When the parson had settled himself comfortably, the schoolmaster
suddenly turned to him and said in a cheery tone:

"Now I must tell you the news: I'm going to build a mission house."

The clergyman became as white as a sheet and sank back in his
chair.

"What are you saying, Storm?" he gasped. "Are they really thinking
of building a mission house here? Then what's to become of me and
the church? Are we to be dispensed with?"