When she found herself alone with Amy she asked her whether Eva really never went to church. Amy looked worried as she replied, 'I am afraid she has got into bad habits lately. She says she is tired on Sunday mornings, and that it is the only day she can rest, and that she does not notice that people are any the better for going; in fact, she says, they generally come back cross and complaining of the heat or cold of the church or the length of the sermon.' 'That's the kind of things people always say when they want to defend themselves for not going to church. But if she is tired in the morning, surely she can go in the evening?' suggested Stella. 'Perhaps you will be able to persuade her; I cannot,' responded Amy. But Stella shook her head. 'I shall not try; I do not believe in arguing about such things. We must try by our own example to make her see that churchgoing does make us feel better. I know it made me feel ashamed of my discontent these last three months. I have hated my life here and every one around me; and I certainly don't deserve things to have turned out so well,' she said humbly. 'And the funny part of it is that Eva has really been the person to bring it about, and--I don't like saying so--she managed to twist what I said, and what you said, so as to make us each believe that the one was quite willing for the move and was only kept back by the other,' observed Amy, who had resented this management when she found it out. 'It has happened to answer in this case, but it does not generally answer, and I am sorry for her sake that she has succeeded in getting her way by rather crooked means,' said Stella. The girls had yet to learn that 'the mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small,' and that the experiment which had started in so promising a manner might turn out a failure, and that Eva had time yet to repent of her 'clever management.' At present, however, everything was _couleur de rose_, and after tea they all sat round the fire in the Whartons' sitting-room, while Stella played hymns on her piano, and Eva, who had a very pretty voice, joined in very heartily, to Mrs. Morrison's delight. 'Let's go for a walk; I've got my presentiment again,' announced Eva, shutting up her hymn-book and jumping up from her chair. Mrs. Morrison looked at her over the top of her spectacles. 'What might you have?' she inquired, thinking that Eva was complaining of not feeling well. 'The hump, Mrs. Morrison, and I want a walk to shake it off,' she replied. Mrs. Morrison did not understand this slang; but she understood that Eva felt depressed, and said, 'A walk will do you all good, and you will just have time to go over the hill yonder before church.' Eva did not like to say that she was not going to church, but she privately decided to return home and amuse herself by trying over some waltzes while the rest were all at church.