“----Week,” said Tasie. “Oh yes, I assure you; for I put it down in my diary: Saturday week. You can’t quite tell how time goes, when you don’t come to church. Without Sunday, all the days are alike. I wondered that you were not at church last Sunday, Frances, and so did mamma.” “Why was it? I forget. I had a headache, I think. I never like to stay away. But I went to church here in the village instead.” “O Frances, I wonder your papa lets you do that! It is much better when you have a headache to stay at home. I am sure I don’t want to be intolerant, but what good can it do you going there? You can’t understand a word.” “Yes, indeed I do--many words. Mariuccia has shown me all the places; and it is good to see the people all saying their prayers. They are a great deal more in earnest than the people down at the Marina, where it would be just as natural to dance as to pray.” “Ah, dance!” said Tasie, with a little sigh. “You know there is never anything of that kind here. I suppose you never was at a dance in your life--unless it is in summer, when you go away?” “I have never been at a dance in my life. I have seen a ballet, that is all.” “O Frances, please don’t talk of anything so wicked! A ballet! that is very different from nice people dancing--from dancing one’s own self with a nice partner. However, as we never do dance here, I can’t see why you should say that about our church. It is a pity, to be sure, that we have no right church; but it is a lovely room, and quite suitable. If you would only practise the harmonium a little, so as to take the music when I am away. I never can afford to have a headache on Sunday,” Miss Durant added, in an injured tone. “But, Tasie, how could I take the harmonium, when I don’t even know how to play?” “I have offered to teach you, till I am tired, Frances. I wonder what your papa thinks, if he calls it reasonable to leave you without any accomplishments? You can draw a little, it is true; but you can’t bring out your sketches in the drawing-room of an evening, to amuse people; and you can always play----” “When you _can_ play.” “Yes, of course that is what I mean--when you can play. It has quite vexed me often to think how little trouble is taken about you; for you can’t always be young, so young as you are now. And suppose some time you should have to go home--to your friends, you know?” Frances raised her head from her drawing and looked her companion in the face. “I don’t think we have any--friends,” she said. “Oh, my dear, that must be nonsense!” cried Tasie. “I confess I have never heard your papa talk of any. He never says ‘my brother,’ or ‘my sister,’ or ‘my brother-in-law,’ as other people do--but then he is such a very quiet man; and you must have somebody--cousins at least--you must have cousins; nobody is without somebody,” Miss Durant said.