s a child, it was
a matter of earnest prayer during the week that on Sunday I might sit
next, some particular person in church. "And, O Lord, if it be for my
good, let me sit next the door." A child's religion is a very real thing
to him, and not only a Saturday-to-Monday thing.

I looked at Betty's serious little face and wished that I could for one
moment read her thoughts. Her eyes, such lovely eyes, were fixed on
the preacher's face. What did his sermon convey to her? It was a
particularly uninteresting one, I remember, an appeal on behalf of the
curates' fund. Her eyes never left his face--such solemn, searching,
truthful eyes. I think a child like Betty should not be allowed to go
to church on such occasions, for what is the use of preaching against
matrimony on the one hand, and that, I suppose, is what the moral of
such a sermon should be,--and on the other hand holding up an incentive
to matrimony in the very alluring shape of Betty? For, personally, I
think Betty would be a very wonderful possession for any curate to have.

Hugh was growing restless and I was bearing the brunt of it. Nannie,
feeling for me, leaned over from the back pew and said, "Don't rest your
head on your Aunt Woggles."

"I came to church on purpose to rest my head on my Aunt Woggles's
chest," said Hugh, again in what he calls a whisper. A moment later, he
asked, "Is it done?"

It was, and he jumped up.

"May I sit next you next Sunday, Aunt Woggles?" he said, so soon as we
got outside the church door.

"No, Hugh," I said.

"I bet I do, all the same," he said.

"Aunt Woggles," said Betty, as we walked home, "I collect for the
prevention of children; do you suppose Mr. Dudley would give me a
penny?"

"I am sure he would, darling, but it is the prevention of cruelty to
children--the prevention of cruelty."

"That's such a long thing to say, Aunt Woggles, don't you suppose he
would understand if I did say it a little wrong?"

"Perhaps, darling, but it is always best to say things right."

"Yes, I will, but I was only supposing, supposing I didn't."

At luncheon Diana cautioned Betty against swallowing a fish-bone. "You
might die, darling, if you did."

"Then I shall swallow every single bone I can," announced Betty.

"But, darling," said Diana, "why do you say that? You don't want to die.
You are quite happy, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm very happy, but I want to die, all the same."

"Oh, darling, don't say that," said Diana;