"Have you any gatherings between Sundays?" he asked.
"Yes; every Wednesday evening," replied Mr Marshal. "And if you won't
preach on Sunday, we shall announce tonight that next Wednesday a
clergyman of the Church of Scotland will address the prayer meeting."
He was glad to get out of it so, for he was uneasy about his
friend, both as to his nerve, which might fail him, and his Scotch
oddities, which would not.
"That would be hardly true," said Mr Graham, "seeing I never got
beyond a licence."
"Nobody here knows the difference between a licentiate and a placed
minister; and if they did they would not care a straw. So we'll
just say clergyman."
"But I won't have it announced in any terms. Leave that alone, and
I will try to speak at the prayer meeting."
"It won't be in the least worth your while except we announce it.
You won't have a soul to hear you but the pew openers, the woman
that cleans the chapel, Mrs Marshal's washerwoman, and the old
greengrocer we buy our vegetables from. We must really announce
it."
"Then I won't do it. Just tell me--what would our Lord have
said to Peter or John if they had told Him that they had been to
synagogue and had been asked to speak, but had declined because
there were only the pew openers, the chapel cleaner, a washerwoman,
and a greengrocer present?"
"I said it only for your sake, Graham; you needn't take me up so
sharply.
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