"Well then, to be plain with you, I like it not so well as before!" said I. "I think the old carven wood you have covered up much more beautiful than the embroidered cloth on it. And for the rest, I must say it puts me in mind of my little sister's baby-houses, or the Popish chapel my father once took me to see at my Lord Mountford's." "You are something of a Puritan, I see, as your cousin says," said Mr. Penrose. "I don't even know what a Puritan is," I answered, I am afraid rather too warmly for the place. "Felicia—I suppose it is she you mean by my cousin—used to call me a Puritan, because I did not like the East window in our church." "And why did you not like it?" he asked. "Because there was painted thereon the image of Him of whom no image should be made," I answered. "I could not think it right. It seemed to me like blasphemy. I don't see anything wrong about these decorations of yours, but they seem to me not at all suitable for a church." "I am unfortunate in incurring your disapprobation," said he, stiffly. "You asked me, you know," said I. "I could but say what I think. I am sorry if I have hurt you!" "You have not hurt me—only as you always do hurt me," he answered, with such a strange quiver in his voice, that I looked at him in surprise. He turned away, however, and began arranging some of the drapery about the altar. In doing so, the fringe caught on one of the tall, heavy candlesticks. I saw that a fall was imminent, and sprang to save it, but I was too late. The candlestick fell, and as ill-luck would have it, struck me on the forehead, and the edge being sharp, made a pretty deep cut from which the blood flowed freely. I felt stunned and sick for a minute, but recovered myself, to see Mr. Penrose gazing at me with a face whiter than his band. "It is naught!" said I, pulling my kerchief to my forehead. "Don't look so frightened, but help me to find Mrs. Judith." For I was vexed at him, standing there as if rooted to the earth, never offering to help. It was rather unreasonable in me, too, but I do love folk to have their wits about them. He started, and recovered himself, and came forward to give me his arm. Well, at last I got to Mrs. Judith's room, narrowly missing meeting my Lady, which was what I dreaded above all things. Mrs. Judith knew what she was about, at any rate, plastered up my head and bathed my face, and then helped me to my room. She would have had me lie still the rest of the day, but I did not like to leave my child, and I have felt no inconvenience since, save a headache, and now and then a strange sickness. _June 28._ I did not think, when I laid down my pen, that three weeks would pass before I took it up again.