ang their favourite
hymns, or on winter evenings gathered round the old piano in the
well-worn parlour while their mother or Ruth played, or listened while
their father talked or read some good and interesting book. All went to
bed early, and rose in the morning refreshed and strengthened by the joy
and repose of the day of rest.

But Sunday at Busyborough was quite a different matter. Every one was
expected to attend public worship once during the day, but Gerald was
often missing, and the others did not appear to take much pleasure in
going. Mr. Woburn had a pew in a handsome church close by, and also at a
large Nonconformist chapel in the neighbourhood. His wife usually
attended the latter, but Julia preferred the church, where the service
was very elaborate. She hated long sermons, she said, and liked to have
something to look at. Ruth accompanied her once or twice, but found the
morning service, to which she had been accustomed all her life, so
differently rendered that at first she could hardly follow it. The dear
old Psalms, which had always been read at Cressleigh by the clergyman
and the people led by the parish clerk, sounded so strange and
unfamiliar when chanted by a surpliced choir. The intoning, the
processions, and everything else, were so strange, that Ruth was afraid
to join in the service.

After going a few times she decided to accompany her aunt, for although
the service of the chapel was unfamiliar she was able to enter into the
spirit of it, and could appreciate and enjoy the sermon delivered by a
clever and eloquent preacher.

The family dined early on Sundays, and then the miserable part of the
day began for Ruth. There was "nothing to do on Sundays," Julia said,
and indeed there seemed to be no occupation provided. No one thought of
going to Sunday-school, as Ruth had once timidly suggested, although
Julia sometimes went to church when there was a special musical service.
At other times she would begin to read; then she would fidget or strum
on the piano, greatly to the annoyance of her father, who always took a
Sunday afternoon nap, and of Ernest, who buried himself in a book.
Gerald went out, Rupert got into all sorts of mischief, and Ruth was
left to her own devices.

In the evening the girls wrote their Scripture exercises, under cover of
which Julia often did other lessons, though this was quite contrary to
the express orders of her father, who was very anxious that his children
should