'E'd
come an' sit an' talk while we 'ad our dinner, which 'e used to give
us. Beer too, 'Earty. No lemon flavourin' about 'im.

"One day I sez to 'im, 'Funny thing you bein' a parson, sir, if you'll
forgive me sayin' so.'

"'Why?' he arst.

"'Well, you seem so 'appy, just like me and 'Uggles.' 'Uggles is
always grinnin' when 'e ain't drunk.

"'E laughed as if it was the best joke 'e'd ever 'eard.

"'If religion don't make yer 'appy, it's the wrong religion,' 'e says.

"Now look at 'Earty and Lizzie; do they look 'appy?"

Mrs. Hearty and Millie looked instinctively at the two joyless faces.

"They got the wrong religion, sure as eggs," pronounced Bindle, well
pleased at the embarrassment on the faces of Mrs. Bindle and Mr.
Hearty. "I went to 'ear that cove preach. I liked 'is Gawd better'n
yours, 'Earty. 'E didn't want to turn the next world into a sort of
mixed grill. He was all for 'appiness and pleasure. I could be
religious with a man like that parson. He was too good for 'is job.

"There's some people wot seem to spend their time a-inventin' 'orrible
punishments in the next world for the people they don't like in this."

"I wish you'd learn 'ow to be'ave before your betters," remarked Mrs.
Bindle, in the subdued voice she always adopted in the presence of Mr.
Hearty. "I'm ashamed of you, Bindle, that I am."

"Don't you worry, Mrs. B. 'Earty knows me bark's worse'n me bite,
don't yer, ole sport?"

Mr. Hearty shivered, but bared his teeth in token of Christian
forbearance.

"An' now, Mrs. Bindle, it's 'ome and 'appiness and the missionary's
bed."

As Bindle was in the hall, putting on his coat, Millie slipped out.

"Uncle," she whispered, "will you take me to the pictures one night?"

"O' course I will, little Millikins. Name the 'appy day."

"Friday," she whispered; "but ask before father; and uncle, will you
put on your hard hat and best overcoat?"

Bindle eyed his niece curiously.

"Wot's up, Millikins?" he enquired; whereat Millie hid her face against
his sleeve.

"I'll tell 'you Friday. You will come, won't you?" There was a tremor
in her voice, and a sudden fear in her eyes.

"At seven-thirty J.B.'ll be 'ere at yer ladyship's service, 'at an'
all. 'E'd put on 'is best face only 'e ain't got one.

"That pretty face of 'ers 'll cause 'Earty a nasty jar one of these
days," muttered Bindle, as he and Mrs. Bindle walked home in silence.

CHAPTER V

BINDLE TRIES A