ered on to those calculations which people make
about waste of time and how much one can get done if one gives ten
minutes a day to it, and I was thinking what improper suggestion I could
make in connection with this and the time spent on family prayers which
should at the same time be just tolerable, when I heard Theobald
beginning "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ" and in a few seconds the
ceremony was over, and the servants filed out again as they had filed in.

As soon as they had left the drawing-room, Christina, who was a little
ashamed of the transaction to which I had been a witness, imprudently
returned to it, and began to justify it, saying that it cut her to the
heart, and that it cut Theobald to the heart and a good deal more, but
that "it was the only thing to be done."

I received this as coldly as I decently could, and by my silence during
the rest of the evening showed that I disapproved of what I had seen.

Next day I was to go back to London, but before I went I said I should
like to take some new-laid eggs back with me, so Theobald took me to the
house of a labourer in the village who lived a stone's throw from the
Rectory as being likely to supply me with them. Ernest, for some reason
or other, was allowed to come too. I think the hens had begun to sit,
but at any rate eggs were scarce, and the cottager's wife could not find
me more than seven or eight, which we proceeded to wrap up in separate
pieces of paper so that I might take them to town safely.

This operation was carried on upon the ground in front of the cottage
door, and while we were in the midst of it the cottager's little boy, a
lad much about Ernest's age, trod upon one of the eggs that was wrapped
up in paper and broke it.

"There now, Jack," said his mother, "see what you've done, you've broken
a nice egg and cost me a penny--Here, Emma," she added, calling her
daughter, "take the child away, there's a dear."

Emma came at once, and walked off with the youngster, taking him out of
harm's way.

"Papa," said Ernest, after we had left the house, "Why didn't Mrs Heaton
whip Jack when he trod on the egg?"

I was spiteful enough to give Theobald a grim smile which said as plainly
as words could have done that I thought Ernest had hit him rather hard.

Theobald coloured and looked angry. "I dare say," he said quickly, "that
his mother will whip him now that we are gone."

I was not going to have this and said I did not believe