'It will be some time before she can play games,' replies Lippa, laughing; 'but you will have to be very good to her. What do you want her to be called?' 'Lots of names,' says Teddy. 'But look, Auntie; do look, there's Mr Dalrymple. Do you think he's going to our church?' 'I don't know at all,' she replies, trying to look unconcerned. 'We shall be there in a moment, come along; it is rude to stare at people.' She hurries her nephew up the aisle and into their pew, for fear of coming face to face with Jimmy; she remains a few moments on her knees, and so does not interfere with Teddy, who having hurried through his own private devotions, turns round and watches the stream of people passing in through the door. He suddenly nods and beckons, and when Lippa rises she finds that Jimmy is sitting one off her, only Teddy between. It is the first time she has seen him since her mother's death, and she wonders if he will speak when they get out of church, and why he ever came into their pew. But when the service is over, Teddy having sung lustily in his shrill voice, nothing awkward takes place. 'A merry Christmas,' he says. 'The same to you,' replies Philippa. 'Are you going to walk home?' he asks. 'No, we are going back in a hansom.' Here Teddy interrupts with, 'Did you know I've got a sister, you'll come and see her, won't you?' 'I shall be delighted,' replies Dalrymple, looking at Lippa, who has turned her head away. 'May I come?' he asks in a low voice. But Miss Seaton does not answer, as Lady Dadford suddenly appears, 'Ah! my _dear_ child,' she exclaims, 'how is the sweet mother and the baby?' So a long string of questions ensues, and Philippa answers them, feeling that Jimmy is watching her, and suddenly she meets his eye, and there is a look of entreaty in them that makes her smile back; such a dear little tender smile, that it causes Dalrymple to start, while a new life seems to course through his veins. Ah! what a great deal a pretty woman's smile may do, of good and often alas of harm. How many men have been lured on by a smile and only too late have awoke from its enchantment. Oh, women, women, some of you hardly take into consideration what a great part you take in the world's drama; with you it lies to make or mar the lives of the men, be they brothers, husbands, sons or merely friends; it is in your power to make them God-fearing, true gentlemen; and it is you too, who drag them down till they become mere lovers of pleasure, giving way to every vanity, forgetting _surely_ that they are human beings, with immortal souls! * * * * * It is tea-time, and in Brook Street Lippa has just begun to pour out that delicious beverage for herself and her brother, when the door opens and Dalrymple walks in. 'Hullo,' says George, 'what an age it is since you have been near the house--' 'Yes,' replies Jimmy, rather lamely, taking Philippa's proffered hand.