A poignant regret for that unknown governess suffering from her illegible complaint pierced John's mind. But perhaps she would recover, in which case she should spend her convalescence at Ambles with Harold; for if when in good health she was strict, after a severe illness she might be ferocious. "Well, I'm not at all pleased with your attitude," John declared. "And you'll find me twice as strict as Miss Coldwell." "Oh, no, we shan't," said Bertram with a smile of jovial incredulity. John let this contradiction pass: it seemed an imprudent subject for debate. "And now, to-day being Sunday, you'd better get ready for church." "Oh, but we always dress up on Sunday," Viola said. "So does everybody," John replied. "Go and get ready." The children left the room, and he rang for Mrs. Worfolk. "Master Bertram and Miss Viola will shortly be going to church, and I want you to arrange for somebody to take them." Mrs. Worfolk hesitated. "Who was you thinking of, sir?" "I wasn't thinking of anybody in particular, but I suppose Maud could go." "Maud has her rooms to do." "Well, Elsa." "Elsa has her dinner to get." "Well, then, perhaps you would ..." "Yaul pardon the liberty, sir, but I never go to church except of an evening _some_times; I never could abide being stared at." "Oh, very well," said John, fretfully, as Mrs. Worfolk retired. "Though I'm hanged if _I'm_ going to take them," he added to himself, "at any rate without a rehearsal." The two children soon came back in a condition of complete preparation and insisted so loudly upon their uncle's company that he yielded; though when he found himself with a child on either side of him in the sabbath calm of the Hampstead streets footfall-haunted, he was appalled at his rashness. There was a church close to his own house, but with an instinct to avoid anything like a domestic scandal he had told his nephew and niece that it was not a suitable church for children, and had led them further afield through the ghostly November sunlight. "But look here," Bertram objected, "we can't go through any slums, you know, because the cads will bung things at my topper." "Not if you're with me," John argued. "I am wearing a top-hat myself." "Well, they did when I went for a walk with Father once on Sunday." "The slums round Earl's Court are probably much fiercer than the slums round Hampstead," John suggested. "And anyway here we are." He had caught a glimpse of an ecclesiastical building, which unfortunately turned out to be a Jewish tabernacle and not open: a few minutes later, however, an indubitably Anglican place of worship invited their attendance, and John trying not to look as bewildered as he felt let himself be conducted by a sidesman to the very front pew. "I wonder if he thinks I'm a member of parliament. But I wish to goodness he'd put us in the second row. I shall be absolutely lost where I am."