It is no wonder, poor dear! I mean she shall have a change of scene, now that there are no strangers in the house to stare at her. When I sat down to dinner with the rest, I thought Mr. Penrose looked mighty stiff and dissatisfied, and I wondered what the matter was. Presently, however, it all came out: "I did not see you in chapel, Mistress Merton!" said he to me, when the dinner was fairly in progress. "Why was that?" I felt in very good spirits, and not, I am afraid, in any mood to be catechised; so I answered merrily enough: "I am not sure, Mr. Penrose, but I think it must have been because I was not there." And then seeing that he looked a little displeased, I added that I had been to church at the village. "Yes, I saw you walking home!" "Oh, you did!" thought I. "Then why need you ask me anything about the matter?" "I hope you enjoyed the services!" he said, in a tone which contradicted his words. "I did," I answered. "It seemed like being at home again." "I had hoped, however, to see all the family present at the chapel," said Mr. Penrose; "and said so to my Lady. I presume, however, you had her permission for absenting yourself?" "I should not be very likely to go without it!" I replied with some heat, for I was vexed at his tone and manner. "If you doubt my word, you had better ask my Lady herself." By ill-luck occurred at this moment one of those unaccountable silences which will fall at such times, and my words were heard the length of the table. My Lady looked up, and said, smiling, while all eyes were turned on us: "What is that which is to be referred to me, Mistress Merton?" I don't know whether I felt more like sinking into the earth, or boxing his ears who had brought me into this scrape: however, I answered, smiling in my turn, though my cheeks were as hot as fire: "Mr. Penrose seems to think I have been playing truant, my Lady, in going to the village church this morning. But I tell him that you gave me leave to do so." "I did so, certainly!" answered my Lady. "I thought you would feel yourself more at home, being a clergyman's daughter, and used to a parish church. I trust you had a pleasant time!" "I did indeed, my Lady," said I. "I enjoyed it very much." "Especially the walk home," said Mr. Penrose, in an undertone, intended only for my ear. I was so vexed I would not speak to him again all dinnertime. I am afraid, after all, that I am not much the better for my church-going—but Mr. Penrose was certainly very provoking. After dinner, I gave my Lady, Doctor Parnell's message, and then opened my plan to her, which was to set Lady Betty to work on some clothes for the poor babes. I told her I thought it would make an interest for Lady Betty outside of herself—that it would divert her, and be good for her in many ways. She seemed much pleased, I thought, and gave me leave to do as I saw fit, only cautioning me against letting the child overtire herself, as she is apt to do with any new fancy.