it would seem that there is too much business to be done, or
too much pleasure to be enjoyed, for the oncoming generation to remember
their weekly engagement with the Lord. This is not as it should be; and
I rely upon the fathers and mothers of this congregation, who brought
these children in their arms to the baptismal font, there to be admitted
to the good hopes and great privileges of the Church of God--I rely upon
them to see that there shall be no departure from the good old rule, and
that time is found for the weekly prayer meeting."

Mrs Murchison nudged Stella, who returned the attention, looking
elaborately uninterested, with her foot. Alec and Oliver smiled
consciously; their father, with an expression of severe gravity, backed
up the minister who, after an instant's pause, continued--

"On Tuesday afternoon next, God willing, I shall visit the following
families in the East Ward--Mr Peterson, Mr Macormack, Mrs Samuel Smith,
and Mr John Flint. On Thursday afternoon in the South Ward, Mrs Reid,
Mr P. C. Cameron, and Mr Murchison. We will close by singing the Third
Doxology: Blessed, blessed be Jehovah, Israel's God to all eternity--"

The congregation trooped out; the Murchisons walked home in a clan, Mr
and Mrs Murchison, with Stella skirting the edge of the sidewalk beside
them, the two young men behind. Abby, when she married Harry, had "gone
over" to the Church of England. The wife must worship with the husband;
even Dr Drummond recognized the necessity, though he professed small
opinion of the sway of the spouse who, with Presbyterian traditions
behind her, could not achieve union the other way about; and Abby's
sanctioned defection was a matter of rather shame-faced reference by her
family. Advena and Lorne had fallen into the degenerate modern habit of
preferring the evening service.

"So we're to have the Doctor on Thursday," said Mrs Murchison, plainly
not displeased. "Well, I hope the dining-room carpet will be down."

"I expect he'll be wanting his tea," replied Mr Murchison. "He's got you
in the right place on the list for that, Mother--as usual."

"I'd just like to see him go anywhere else for his tea the day he was
coming to our house," declared Stella. "But he GENERALLY has too much
sense."

"You boys," said Mrs Murchison, turning back to her sons, "will see that
you're on hand that evening. And I hope the Doctor will rub it in about
the prayer meeting." Mrs Murchison chuckled. "I saw it we