a procession of perhaps a dozen people, all
dressed in sheets. Everybody saw at one pitiful glance that these were
unfortunate householders, so suddenly roused from oblivion as to forget
all their ordinary suburban dignity, probably barely escaping from
ruined homes with their lives and a sheet each. There was a very old
man, a middle-aged spinster, and then an enormous group of children of
ages varying from two months to twenty years, followed by their parents,
teachers, or guardians.

A nearer gun began to fire, and one of the old ladies on the other side
of the crypt suddenly threw down her knitting and began confessing her
sins. "Ow, I shall go to 'ell," she shouted dramatically. "I bin sich a
wicked ol' woman. I nearly done in me first ol' man by biffin' the
chopper at 'is nob, and Lawd, the lies I bin an' tol' me second only
yesterday."

"This is indeed a solemn moment," said the sheeted spinster sitting down
beside Lady Arabel. "I hope I am meeting it in a proper spirit, but of
course one is still only human, and naturally nervous. I have learned my
statement by heart."

"What statement?" asked Lady Arabel, who was rather deeply engrossed in
turning the heel of the sock she was knitting.

"The statement I shall make when the sheep are divided from the goats."

"Oh, come, come," said kind Lady Arabel. "Things are not so bad as
that, surely. You must not be so dretfully pessimistic."

"You mistake me," said the sheeted lady, bridling. "There is, I am
confident, no cause whatever for pessimism on my part. I have no
misgivings as to the verdict. But not being used to courts of law, I
thought it best to learn my statement, as I say, by heart."

The old knitter had been rather annoyed to find her confession
interrupted. "A wicked ol' woman I may be," she said with more dignity.
"But I'll never regret givin' that bloody speshul a bit o' me mind this
mornin' when 'e turned saucy to the sugar queue. I ses to 'im----"

"We all have our faults," Lady Arabel's neighbour broke in. "But I
think, at this solemn moment, I may feel thankful that hastiness of
recrimination was never one of mine. All my life I have made it an
unalterable rule never to make a statement without first asking myself:
Is it _TRUE_? Is it _JUST_? Is it _KIND_?"

"You may well say so," replied Lady Arabel pleasantly. "I only wish the
younger generation would follow your example. Nowadays it is much more
likely to be: Is it true? No. Is it just?