CHAPTER XXII

MORE WORK FOR THE KINGDOM

HAVING consented to Miss Burton's plan for establishing a Sunday school, Mr. Hollys interested himself heartily in the necessary arrangements. No time was lost in setting about the work; but the Egloshayle carpenters were not the most expeditious of workmen, and a fortnight passed before the room was ready for use. Coral and Beryl watched the progress of the work with the greatest interest, and it was a glad day for them when at last they saw the barn in perfect order for the reception of their scholars.

It was a barn no longer, but a large and comfortable room, furnished with a table and chairs, wooden benches for the scholars, and some bookshelves; bright pictures adorned the walls, and sweet, flowering plants, standing on the window-sill, gave a cheerful, homely look to the room.

The children were delighted beyond measure with the new schoolroom. It was a disappointment to Beryl that Percy did not see its completion. He went back to London a few days before it was finished. His foot was not yet well, but he could manage to limp along with the aid of a stick, and his mother was so anxious for his return home, that he would not delay his journey after he had the doctor's permission to travel.

He and Beryl parted the best of friends. The child was not glad now at the thought of losing Percy's company. She regretted his departure keenly. Her face broke into a smile, however, when Percy, as he said good-bye, whispered to her that he would get his mother to insist upon Mr. Hollys bringing her with him, when he came to London in the spring. That was a charming idea to her, for Beryl had no longer the least fear that Percy's teasing ways would spoil the enjoyment of her holiday.

"Oh, that would be delightful!" she returned. "If only papa will let me go!"

"He will, if you make a fuss," returned Percy, in an undertone. "You know you always manage to get your own way, Duchess."

Beryl could not feel that this statement was quite true; but she earnestly hoped that she might get her own way with respect to the visit to London.

She had certainly had things much her own way of late. She had never dreamed of anything so good as the manner in which her wish to have a Sunday school was now realised. On the Sunday following Percy's departure, the first classes were held. A good number of children obeyed the invitation to come, and their bright happy faces and orderly demeanour showed that they appreciated the arrangements which had been made for their reception.

Beryl felt very proud, when Miss Burton committed to her the instruction of six little children, all under seven years of age. Perhaps the lady's presence awed the restless little mortals; certainly Beryl found her present class much more manageable than the class she had tried to teach in the damp cave under the cliff. She found it a great advantage to have Miss Burton to appeal to in any disturbance or perplexity.

Coral also was entrusted with the charge of some little ones, whilst Miss Burton taught the elder scholars.

Thus was commenced the first Sunday school at Egloshayle. To many of the dwellers in that out-of-the-world place, the very idea of such a thing was astonishing, and its novelty was alone enough to set them against the arrangement. But there were people, who had come from other villages, where Sunday schools were as unquestioned a fact as the Sunday services at the church, and they were thankful that their children should be cared for and taught on Sunday afternoons.

The establishment of the school tended to increase Mr. Hollys' popularity with the simple fisher-folk of Egloshayle.

As the children talked about their school, and the thing became better known, one new scholar after another was added to the number who gathered in the barn, till at last there were as many as the room could conveniently hold.

Beryl had a pleasing proof that Percy did not forget his little friends as soon as he found himself in London again.

Perhaps he had been more interested in their plans for establishing a Sunday school than he cared to appear. It seemed so, when one day, about a fortnight after his departure, the country carrier brought to Egloshayle House a large square parcel, directed to Miss Beryl Hollys, which had come by rail from London.

In a flutter of curiosity, Beryl cut the string and unfastened the package. As she pushed back the many folds of paper, a pile of bright-covered books came to view. They were well-chosen story books such as all children love. A note from Percy lay above them, in which he explained that as he believed a lending library was considered to be an important addition to a Sunday school, he had sent a few books, which Beryl might devote to the use of her scholars if she thought fit. He could not say that the books were worth reading, as he was not responsible for their selection. His mother, who knew more about such things, had chosen them at his request.

Beryl was highly pleased with this most unexpected gift. The idea of a lending library had not before occurred to her; but she hailed it with delight, and felt very grateful to Percy for at once suggesting it and aiding its accomplishment.

She and Coral were soon at work covering the books in neat brown paper covers, and when they were duly numbered and placed on the shelves in the new schoolroom, with some of the children's own books added to them, they made a good foundation for a school library.

After this, the weeks passed very happily and swiftly for the children at Egloshayle House. With their own lessons to do, and their Sunday scholars to care for, they had no lack of occupation.

To Beryl's joy, her father remained at home from September till Christmas, with the exception of a fortnight, during which he was absent on a yachting trip with a friend. Many friends visited him during the autumn; but when they were gone, and rough gales and icy breezes changed Egloshayle into a bleak and uninviting place, he still found attractions in his home there.

The winter season was always a trying time for the poor Cornish fishermen.

It was often at the risk of their lives that they went out to catch the fish, whose sale brought them but small profit.

This year there was even more distress than usual amongst the Egloshayle villagers.

It was well for them that Mr. Hollys was at home at the time. No story of want which reached his ears failed to stir his compassion. He made Miss Burton his almoner for the needs of his poor neighbours, and she distributed his generous gifts with kindness and discretion. She had become well known to the villagers.

They had learned to look upon her as a friend, since she began to teach their children, and there were few homes in the place to which she was not welcomed.

It was therefore easy to find out the true state of the poor people's affairs, and how they might best be relieved.

One result of this time of distress was the development of a plan by which Miss Burton hoped to benefit Coral and Beryl, and also the poor children in whom they felt such interest.

Going suddenly into the nursery one day, Beryl was surprised to find her governess in grave consultation with Lucy, respecting some outgrown garments of the children's, which they were examining with much deliberation.

"What are you doing with those things, Miss Burton?" asked Beryl curiously.

"I am trying to contrive new clothes out of old ones, Beryl," returned her governess; "and I shall want you and Coral to help me. I am thinking of starting a Dorcas meeting."

"What is a Dorcas meeting?" asked Beryl, in a tone of wonder.

"Don't you know? Have you never read in the Bible about Dorcas, and what she did?"

Beryl shook her head.

"I know," put in Coral eagerly. "Dorcas was the woman who made clothes for the poor, and Peter brought her to life after she was dead. And they showed him all the coats and garments which she had made."

"Yes, you are right," said Miss Burton, smiling at the child's hurried explanation. "I am glad you remembered about her, Coral. A Dorcas meeting is called by her name, because it is a gathering at which clothes are made for the poor. I want you and Beryl to be little Dorcases, and make garments for the poor children. I was quite distressed yesterday to see how bare of clothing some of them are obliged to go this bitter weather. Now, some of these cast-off things of yours will cut up nicely for smaller children, and others with a little mending will do as they are. We must have a working meeting once or twice a week, and see how much we can do."

"Oh, that will be nice," cried Coral. "I shall like that, shan't you, Beryl?"

Beryl did not at once reply. She was feeling vexed that Coral should have known about Dorcas when she did not. Moreover, Miss Burton's proposal did not seem a delightful one to her. She was not, like Coral, fond of needlework. Coral could sew pretty well for a little girl of her age, and would amuse herself for a long time with a needle and cotton making doll's clothes, which were often of a very queer cut. But if Beryl undertook any work of the kind, she soon threw it down in disgust. She disliked sewing, and had not sufficient patience to overcome its difficulties. When she worked, her needle was sure to break, or her thread to get into a knot, and her task was never finished unless Miss Burton insisted upon its completion—an exercise of authority fatal to Beryl's good temper.

Miss Burton had hoped that Beryl would interest herself in the proposed Dorcas meeting, and that it would prove a means of overcoming her indolent dislike of sewing.

Perhaps Beryl suspected that there was some such thought in her governess's mind, and felt inclined to resent it. She made no pleasant response to Miss Burton's proposition.

"Can't Lucy make the clothes?" she asked sulkily. "I hate sewing."

"I dare say Lucy will give us a little help," said Miss Burton; "but she has almost as much work as she can manage to do for you and Coral. I don't think you will dislike sewing so much, when you have learned to use your needle more skilfully."

"I don't want to learn," muttered Beryl.

"I am so sorry," returned Miss Burton; "I thought you would have liked our little scholars to have some warm clothes."

"I like them to have the clothes, of course," said Beryl; "but I don't want the trouble of making them."

Lucy had carried the children's frocks back to the wardrobe, and Beryl and her governess were alone.

"So, Beryl," said Miss Burton softly, "you are not willing to do any sort of work for the kingdom?"

Beryl coloured and looked uncomfortable.

This unexpected question put the matter in a new light.

"It is the King who gives us our work, Beryl," said Miss Burton, "the little duties as well as the great ones. Don't you think that it is His will that you should learn to sew properly? Don't you think that in our sewing meetings, as well as in our Sunday school, we may be workers for the kingdom?"

"Yes, Miss Burton," said Beryl, ashamed and convinced; "I did not think of that. I will try to like making the clothes, but I do so dislike sewing."

But when the Dorcas meetings were commenced, Beryl found that she could like them without much trying.

Miss Burton did not give the children too difficult tasks. She did all the awkward bits herself. There was always some pleasant story in hand, which they read by turns, so that the children learned to look forward to the afternoons on which they held their Dorcas meeting; and as Beryl grew more expert in the use of her needle, she liked sewing better, and took a pride in the neat little garments which she helped to make.