They were a somewhat incongruous trio, and what little conversation there was consisted chiefly of good-natured banter of Emily by the irrepressible Nan, to which Mr. Birdsall listened somewhat abstractedly. The dinner hour had not as yet assumed a position of importance to either of the girls, and as soon as possible they pushed back their chairs, and once more sought the shady porch. Emily gave one furtive glance over her shoulder to assure herself that her uncle was not following them, and then picked up a novel from a neighboring table, and opened it with a great show of interest. Nan watched the bit of deception, and a smile spread itself over her face. "Puss," she cried, stooping to lift up a little white kitten which was brushing against her skirt, "it is now our turn to be shocked and horrified." Her remark being received in contemptuous silence, for a while she played languidly with the little creature in her lap, then her hand dropped at her side, her head fell back against the cushions, and Nan was fast asleep. The air was heavy and drowsy, all about the insects hummed so lazily and the very atmosphere lulled one into forgetfulness. By and by, the crunching sound of footsteps on the graveled path roused Nan to sudden consciousness. "Oh! dear, Nan," Emily was whispering in a tone of suppressed excitement, "please wake up. Here comes Mr. Dudley. I forgot to tell you that I was going for a walk with him." "That's all right," Nan interrupted her sleepily. "I am going in so he won't see me," and lifting herself lazily from her chair, she slipped into the house through one of the French windows. Within the house there reigned the solemn stillness of the Day of Rest. The door of the study stood part-way open, and Nan could see her father lying on his lounge, his white head shining like silver against the dark leather of the cushion. She stole in on tip-toe to avoid awakening him, caught up a bright-colored afghan and threw it over him. "How sweet he looks," she thought with great tenderness, as she stooped and gently kissed him. She paused a moment by the large writing table to find, amid a litter of papers, an old hymnbook, shabby from long usage, and opening it marked the hymns selected for the evening service. Then she passed out and closed the door softly behind her. She waited a few moments until she heard Emily and Mr. Dudley leave the porch, then put on her hat, and started across the lawn to the manor. Coming out upon the drive-way she met Helen walking briskly along. "Well," she cried, "where are you going?" "To evening prayers, Nancy. Won't you come with me?" "Yes, indeed I will. I thought you never left the children Sunday afternoon." "I don't usually, but to-day I felt just in the humor for church."