All was now activity.

Everybody tripped into Mrs.
Green's house, while Richard and Ethel ran different ways to secure that the fires were burning, which they had hired, to boil their kettles, with the tea in them.
Then when the kitchen was so full that it seemed as if it could hold no more, some kind of order was produced, the children were seated on their benches, and, while the mothers stood behind to listen, Mr.Wilmot began to examine, as well as he could in so crowded an audience.
There was progress.

Yes, there was.

Only three were as utterly rude and idealess as they used to be at Christmas.

Glimmerings had dawned on most, and one--Una M'Carthy--was fit to come forward to claim Mr.
Wilmot's promise of a Prayer-book.