oel ventured to open his eyes, and found hers fixed severely upon him.
"Well, I'm awfully sorry," he said. "What had we better do?"

"You're not sorry," said Peggy accusingly. "Your eyes are all laughy."

"I'll swear they're not," declared Noel. "But I say, hadn't you better
finish? Then we can have a cuddle."

"But I can't finish," said Peggy.

"Why not?"

"'Cos you interrupted, and I can't begin again." There was more than the
sound of tears this time; the blue eyes were suddenly swimming in them.
"And I haven't said my hymn, and you don't care a bit," she said in a
voice that quivered ominously. Matters were evidently getting desperate.

"Yes, but you can say the rest," argued Noel, with the feeling that he
was losing ground every instant. "What do you generally say next?"

"No, I can't. It wouldn't be sayin' them properly, and God doesn't
listen if you don't say them properly."

Here was a formidable difficulty; but Noel's brain was fertile. He had a
sudden inspiration. "Look here!" he said. "I'll say the first part again
for you, and you can say Amen. I haven't said mine yet, you know, so it
doesn't matter for me. Then you can go on and finish. Will that do?"

Peggy gave the matter her grave consideration, and decided that it
would. "But you must kneel down," she said.

There was no sound in the passage now. Noel peered in that direction,
but detected nothing. Patiently he slipped on to his knees, and began to
recite the Lord's Prayer.

Considering the difficulties under which he laboured, he acquitted
himself with considerable credit. Peggy at least was fully satisfied, a
fact to which her fervent "Amen"! abundantly testified. She took up her
own petitions at once quite impressively, albeit with slightly
accelerated speed to make up for lost time. At the end of her hymn she
paused.

"Would you like me to ask God to make me grow up quick so that we can be
married soon, Noel?" she asked.

"I shouldn't." said Noel.

"Not?" The wedgewood-blue eyes opened wide.

"No. Very likely you won't want to marry me when you're grown up," Noel
explained.

Peggy was amazed at the bare suggestion of such a possibility. "Why, of
course I'll want to marry you," she declared, hugging him. "You're the
wery nicest man that ever was."

"No, I'm not. I'm a rotter," Noel made brief and unvarnished reply. "No
one knows what I am--except myself. And no one ever will," he added
almost fiercely. And then, with lightning ch