to say nothing of ample helpings of Mrs. Sampson's justly renowned quince preserve. But these were now the mere accidentals and incidentals of existence, which the excellent Lonely schooled himself to accept casually and absent-mindedly. His interest in the foreign mission field, however, seemed unbounded. He even pointedly inquired of his host if there still were left many leper colonies where missionaries could go and lead lonely, martyred, and heroically horrible lives.
Lionel Clarence looked at his guest and gasped. Could this be the same boy who had taught him to spit through his teeth!
And Lionel Clarence, with sudden unrighteous anger, kicked the new Lonely O'Malley under the table.
Lonely, at this, only smiled wanly and sadly. Lionel Clarence some day would see things as he did. His eyes would be opened, and then he would remember and be sorry!
But as there were still many points of dogma about which Lonely was almost ludicrously unschooled, Mr. Sampson invited the boy to attend his regular Wednesday evening class.
