inclined to talk while she was there.

Miss Unity always went as swiftly through the cloisters as possible; and
Pennie, keeping close to her side, tried as she went along to make out
the half-effaced inscriptions at her feet. There was one she liked
specially, and always took care not to tread upon:

Jane Lister Deare Childe.
Aged 6 Years. 1629.

By degrees she had built up a history about this little girl, and felt
that she knew her quite well, so that she was always glad to pass her
resting-place and say something to her in her thoughts.

Through a very low-arched doorway--so low that Miss Unity had to bend
her head to go under it--they entered the dimly-lighted Cathedral. Only
the choir was used for the service, and the great nave, with its solemn
marble tombs here and there, was half-dark and deserted. Pillars,
shafts, and arches loomed indistinct yet gigantic, and seemed to rise
up, up, up, till they were lost in a misty invisible region together
with the sounds of the organ and the echoes of the choristers' voices.

The greatness and majesty of it all gave Pennie feelings which she did
not understand and could not put into words; they were half pleasure and
half pain, and quite prevented the service from being wearisome to her,
as it sometimes was at Easney. She had so much to think of here. The
Cathedral was so full of great people, from the crusader in his mailed
armour and shield, to the mitred bishop with his crozier, lying so
quietly on their tombs with such stern peaceful faces.

Pennie knew them all well, and in her own mind she decided that Bishop
Jocelyne, who had built the great central tower hundreds of years ago,
was a far nicer bishop to look at than the one who was preaching this
evening. She tried to pay attention to the sermon, but finding that it
was full of curious hard names and a great number of figures, she gave
it up and settled comfortably into her corner to think her own thoughts.
These proved so interesting that she was startled when she found the
service over and Miss Unity groping for her umbrella.

Just outside the Cathedral they were overtaken by Mrs Merridew and her
eldest daughter.

"Most interesting, was it not?" she observed to Miss Unity, "and casts
quite a new light on the condition of those poor benighted creatures.
The bishop is a charming man, full of information. The dean is
delighted. He has always been so interested in foreign missions. The
children th