I was not likely to forget it. It is not every day that one talks freely with so great a man. When we got outside, we were startled to see how low the sun was, and hastened home with little talk by the way. At another time, I should have met a reproof for being out of bounds so late. But dear mother is one who knows when to relax the reins and when to draw them tightly. She had even kept our supper hot by the fire. "Have you heard who is to preach for us to-morrow?" asked Felicia. "No less a person than the Bishop of Exeter, Mr. Carey's uncle." "We have seen him," I replied, not without a mischievous enjoyment of the amazement in her face and mother's. "It was he who kept us talking so long in the vault room." Felicia looked from one to the other as if she suspected a plan to mystify her. Dick hastened to relate a part of what had passed at the church. Dear mother was much pleased, especially when Dick said that the Bishop had advised him not to give up the thought of being a minister, but to continue his studies as he had opportunity. Felicia smiled scornfully. "I do not see anything either very great or very good in that," said she. "I dare say the Bishop, if he were so minded, might easily procure Dick some place, where he might earn thrice as much as he is ever like to do with Master Smith, and without the work. Court favor can do a great deal more than that." "If all tales be true, my Lord does not enjoy much of court favor," said Richard. "I have heard that he is no favorite with the archbishop who rules all about the king nowadays." "I cannot help feeling, however, as though the children had made a valuable friend," said my mother. "And do you really suppose he will ever think of them again, or that he will even know Peggy, if by chance he meets her at Stanton Court?" asked Felicia, with her exasperating superior smile, as if she pitied my mother's weakness. "That is not the way with great people, I fancy." "I suppose there may be a difference in great people as well as in little ones," observed my mother. "I fancy they are much alike in that respect," said Felicia. "Do you judge others by yourself, Felicia?" I could not help asking. "Suppose you were suddenly to make a great match, or to inherit a great fortune, would you forget all about us, and never come near us?" "If I did, I should have a good excuse," returned Felicia, sharply. "To you at least, Peggy, I should owe no debt of kindness." I might have said more, but I saw Dick look at me, so I bit my lip and was silent. I dare say she would, though. When I went to my room, I remembered my promise, and took my Bible to read. The first words my eye fell upon were these: "'Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest to your souls.'" I wonder if it is a want of meekness and lowliness which makes me so easily disturbed? I should not wonder. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER II. _THE LAST SUNDAY._