Philip, making an astonished
face.

"That shows that you don't know Aunt Mary and her children," said Frank,
laughing. "You would never ask what is the good, if you did."

"I know, of course, there must be good to the children, but I should
think it would be decidedly unpleasant for you. Muddy Lane cannot be a
nice place at any time, and now that the warm weather is coming--"

"You don't suppose Violet is one of the people who is afraid of a little
dust, or bad odours, and all that, do you?" asked Frank.

"She rather likes it--self-denial and all that," said Jem. "And as for
Davie--"

"Nonsense, Jem! Self-denial indeed! There is very little of that,"
said David. "You know better than that, if Frank does not."

"And old Caldwell, of all people in the world," said Philip, laughing;
"I did not suppose he could speak to any one younger than fifty--except
Davie. What can he have to say to children, I wonder?"

"Oh, he has enough to say. You ought to hear him," said Jem.

"Thank you. I'll come and hear him--to-morrow, perhaps."

"Mr Caldwell did not like the new hymn-book at first," said Jessie.
"But the children like them, and Letty teaches them to sing, and it is
very nice. I hope we can go to-morrow."

"I hope so," said Mr Philip.

"But you don't care about such things, do you?" asked Jessie.

"I ought to care, ought I not?"

"Yes; but you ought not just to make believe care."

Mr Philip laughed a little.

"There is no make believe about it. I shall like to go to-morrow very
much."

They were all away from the table by this time, and Frank sat down with
David on the window seat. He put his arm round his shoulder, boyish
fashion, and laid his head down upon it.

"Is it military duty you are doing, Davie, down in Muddy Lane?" said he,
softly.

All the talk that had been going on had put David out a good deal, and
he did not answer for a minute. It seemed to him that a great deal had
been made of a little matter, and he was not well pleased.

"Don't you remember about the `armour,'" said Frank.

"Don't Frank?" said David. It hurt him to think that Frank should make
a jest of that.

"Indeed I am not jesting, Davie. That is one way of fighting the good
fight--is it not? And I want to have a good long talk about it again."

"With mamma, you mean."

"Yes, and with you. Don't you remember Hobab and old Tim?"

David did not answer in words, and both the boys sat silent, while the
othe