Nothing more was seen of Pattie until half-past five o'clock, when they were wont to meet for a more substantial meal than on other days. Dot was always present at tea-time, and on Sunday she reckoned upon extra sweets and cakes, as well as upon extra leisure on the part of Mr. Cragg to pet and spoil her. Pattie was silent, and looked grave, and her eyelids were reddened, but otherwise manner was as usual. She sat with her back to the light, so that Mr. Cragg did not quickly note the signs of tears. Dot claimed all his attention, as she eagerly related how she had gone to church, and how she had been "dood," and how Pattie had praised her. After which she launched into a description of what a lot the Vicar had "talked," and how Pattie had told her to listen, "so's I can tell you, dadda, all about it," she beamingly declared in the intervals of cake. "Tell me, Dot, what did the clergyman say?" "Lots," declared Dot, eyeing the jam. "Well, let's have it. Make haste, because I'm going to church this evening, and so is Pattie, and I want to hear about the afternoon sermon." Dot did what some older people are sometimes capable of doing. Since memory failed to recall the address in question, she calmly substituted something else. "Gazi went and telled a wicked tory, and got hims whited all over," she asserted. "No, Dot, it wasn't that," Pattie interposed. She felt the subject a dangerous one under the circumstances. "Not Gehazi—you're forgetting. That was what we talked about before we went to church. The Vicar preached something different. Don't you remember? About the little boat on the lake." Dot declined to remember, and her small head was shaken with a positive air. "Gazi was a wicked wicked mans, and he wented and telled a wicked wicked tory. And when he done that, Lisha made him all white, and he went off and he was most dreadful sorry; and lots of peoples tell tories, dad, and they'se all got to be whited." "All right, don't stop the child," said Cragg, when Pattie would have spoken. "I like her to speak out what is in her little mind. After all, the important question is what has made an impression on her, not what might make an impression on you or me. Go on, Dot. What else did Gehazi do?" Pattie would not look towards Mrs. Cragg, and Mrs. Cragg, remembering former errors, held herself in. "He wented and he got focks and coats and lots of fings, and he hided them away, and he saided it was Lisha what had sented him, and Lisha didn't. It was all a bad tory, dadda. And Lisha was dreadful angry, and so Gazi got all whited. Poor Gazi! Ain't you sorry for Gazi?" "But perhaps Gehazi deserved it, Dot." Dot cheerfully assented to that view of the question. "Naughty bad Gazi!" she remarked. "And Lisha wasn't naughty, was he, Pattie? Lisha was good. I saw Lisha in the picture, frowning at Gazi most dreadful. It's Pattie's little picture. And lots of focks and coats all hided away."