"It was a very good sermon, and I think he seems a very clever young man," returned Mrs. Challoner, with a sigh, for the service had been a long weariness for her. She had not been unmindful of the attention her girls had caused; but if people only knew--And here the poor lady had clasped her hands and put up petitions that were certainly not in the Litany. Phillis seemed about to say something, but she checked herself, and they were all a little silent until they reached the house. This first Sunday was an infliction to them all: it was a day of enforced idleness. There was too much time for thought and room for regret. In spite of all Phillis's efforts,--and she rattled on cheerily most of the afternoon,--Mrs. Challoner got one of her bad headaches, from worry, and withdrew to her room, attended by Dulce, who volunteered to bathe her head and read her to sleep. The church-bells were just ringing for the evening service, and Nan rose, as usual, to put on her hat; but Phillis stopped her: "Oh, Nan, do not let us go to church again this evening. I am terribly wicked to-day, I know, but somehow I cannot keep my thoughts in order. So what is the use of making the attempt? Let us take out our prayer-books and sit on the beach: it is low tide, and a walk over the sands would do us good after our dreadful week." "If you are sure it would not be wrong," hesitated Nan, whose conscience was a little hard to convince in such matters. "No, no. And the run will do Laddie good. The poor little fellow has been shut up in this room all day. We need not tell the mother. She would be shocked, you know. But we never have stayed away from church before, have we? And, to tell you the truth," continued Phillis, with an unsteady laugh that betrayed agitation to her sister's ear, "though I faced it very well this morning, I do not feel inclined to go through it again. People stared so. And I could not help thinking all the time, 'If they only knew!'--that was the thought that kept buzzing in my head. If only Mr. Drummond and all those people knew!" "What does it matter what people think?" returned Nan. But she said it languidly. In her heart she was secretly dismayed at this sudden failure of courage. Phillis had been quite bold and merry all the day, almost reckless in her speeches.