"I daresay you will be able to do that, when you have finished your household work and done your teaching in the school." "Teaching in the school?" "Why, of course you will help me in that. You’ll have to take the girls’ class, whilst I take the boys’." "Oh, shall I? That’s rather horrid. I didn’t think I was going out to Africa to teach, just the same as at home. The National School children at Aldermaston are quite tiresome enough. What will little black girls be like, I wonder?" "I’m told they’re very quick at learning.... I am sorry," continued John, rather portentously, "that you don’t quite seem to realize the nature of the duties you are about to undertake. I love you very dearly, Lucy"—and a tremor in his voice showed sincerity—"but that isn’t the only reason I have asked you to come out to me in Africa and be my wife. I want a helpmeet, not a playmate; one who will aid me in bringing these heathen to a knowledge of God’s goodness; not an idle woman who only thinks of picking wild flowers and ornamenting her house. Don’t pout, dear. I only want to save you disappointment. You are not coming out to a life of luxury, but one of hard work. Besides, it would be hardly fair to the Mission if you did not take certain duties on yourself, because when I am married they will increase my pay to two hundred and fifty pounds a year." "What do you get when you are single?" "One hundred and eighty. You see a married man gets extra pay because it is always supposed his wife will add her work to his. A married missionary, too, has more influence with the natives." "All the same, John, we shall sometimes make time to steal away by ourselves and have a nice little picnic without any of those horrid black people near us...." "Horrid black people, Lucy, have immortal souls...." "I daresay, but that doesn’t prevent their having black bodies and looking like monkeys. However, I daresay I shall get used to them. And if I don’t at first ... By the bye, John, I forgot to ask, but I wanted to, so as to relieve mother’s mind—are they cannibals?" "What, the people of Hangodi? I don’t know, but I scarcely think so. And if they were, we should have all the more credit in converting them." "Yes; but suppose they wouldn’t wait to be converted, but ate you first?" "The little I’ve read and heard shows me they would never do that. African cannibals, it seems, are rather careful whom they eat. Generally only their war captives or their old people. They wouldn’t eat a peaceful stranger, a white man. However, on the east side of Africa the negroes are _not_ cannibals, any more than we are."