Loo The Little Minister

sad. Never will I attempt to picture the Egyp-
tian as she seemed to Gavin while she bent over
Nanny’s fire, never will I describe my glen. Yet
a hundred times have I hankered after trying to
picture both.

An older minister, believing that Nanny’s
anguish was ended, might have gone on his
knees and finished the interrupted prayer, but
now Gavin was only doing this girl’s bidding.

“Nanny and I are to havea dish of tea, as soon
as we have set things to rights,” she told him.
“Do you think we should invite the minister,
Nanny?”

“We couldna dare,” Nanny answered, quickly.
“You'll excuse her, Mr. Dishart, for the pre-
sumption?”

“ Presumption!” said the Egyptian, making a
face.

“Lassie,” Nanny said, fearful to offend her
new friend, yet horrified at this affront to the
minister, “I ken you mean weel, but Mr. Dish-
art’ll think you’re putting yoursel’ on an equality
wi’ him.” She added in a whisper, “ Dinna be
so free; he’s the Auld Licht minister.”

The gypsy bowed with mock awe, but Gavin
let it pass. He had, indeed, forgotten that he
was anybody in particular, and was anxious to
stay to tea.

“‘ But there is no water,” he remembered, “ and
is there any tea?”

“J am going out for them and for some other
things,” the Egyptian explained. “ But no,” she
continued, reflectively, “if I go for the tea, you
must go for the water.”