'I do not permit myself to feel so; if the people will not come, at least they do not lack invitation--twice a day the bells ring out their reproachful call. I wish Christians were half as devout as Mahometans.' 'Mrs. Sadler calls it new-fangled nonsense, and says she has not time to be always in church,' interrupted Chrissy, in her self-sufficient treble. 'My little Chriss, it is not good to repeat people's words. Mrs. Sadler has small means and a large family, and the way she brings them up is highly creditable.' But his gentle reproof fell unheeded. 'But she need not have told Miss Martingale that she knew you were a Ritualist at heart, and that the daily services were unnecessary innovations,' returned Chrissy, stammering slightly over the long words. 'Now, Contradiction, no one asked for this valuable piece of information,' exclaimed Roy, with a warning pull at the rough tawny mane; 'little girls like you ought not to meddle in parish matters. You see Gregory has been steadily at work this morning, father,' pointing to the long swathes of cut grass under the trees; 'the churchyard will be a credit to us yet.' But Roy's good-natured artifice to turn his father's thoughts into a pleasanter channel failed to lift the cloud that Chrissy's unfortunate speech had raised. 'Innovations! new-fangled ideas!' he muttered, in a grieved voice, 'simple obedience--that I dare not, on the peril of a bad conscience, withhold, to the rules of the Church, to the loving precept that bids me gather her children into morning and evening prayer.' 'Contradiction, you deserve half-a-dozen pinches for this,' whispered Roy; 'you have set him off on an old grievance.' 'Never sacrifice principles, Cardie, when you are in my position,' continued Mr. Lambert. 'If I had listened to opposing voices, our bells would have kept silence from one Sunday to another. Ah, Milly! I often ask myself, "Can these dry bones live?" The husks and tares that choke the good seed in these narrow minds that listen to me Sunday after Sunday would test the patience of any faithful preacher.' 'Aunt Milly looks tired, and would be glad of her breakfast,' interposed Richard. Mildred thanked him silently with her eyes; she knew her brother sufficiently of old to dread the long vague self-argument that would have detained them for another half-hour in the porch had not Richard's dexterous hint proved effectual. Mildred learnt a great deal of the habits of the family during the hour that followed; the quiet watchful eyes made their own observation--and though she said little, nothing escaped her tender scrutiny. She saw her brother would have eaten nothing but for the half-laughing, half-coaxing attentions of Roy, who sat next him. Roy prepared his egg, and buttered his toast, and placed the cresses daintily on his plate, unperceived by Mr. Lambert, who was opening his letters and glancing over his papers.