“I would move heaven and earth to save my father!” impulsively spoke Arthur, stung by the implied reproof. “I should not care what labour it cost me to procure the money, so that I succeeded.” “We all would,” said Constance; “you must know we would, William. From Hamish downwards.” “Who is that, making free with Hamish’s name?” demanded that gentleman himself, entering the house with a free step and merry countenance. “Did you think I was lost? I was seduced into joining your missionary-meeting people, and have had to stop late at the office, to make up for it.” “We have been talking about papa, Hamish,” said Constance. “Fresh hope seems to arise daily that those German baths would restore him to health. They cured Dr. Lamb.” “I say, Hamish, that the money must be found for it somehow,” added Mr. Yorke. “Found! of course it shall be found,” cried gay Hamish. “I intend to be a chief contributor to it myself.” But his joking words and careless manner jarred at that moment upon the spirit both of Arthur and Constance Channing. Why? Could there have been any unconscious foreshadowing of evil to come? CHAPTER XVII. -- SUNDAY MORNING AT MR. CHANNING’S, AND AT LADY AUGUSTA’S. The day of rest came round in due course. A day of rest it is in truth to those who have learnt to make it such; a pleasant time of peace; a privileged season of commune with God; a loving day of social happiness for home and home ties. And yet, strange to say, it is, to some, the most hurried, uncomfortable, disagreeable day of all the seven. Mrs. Channing’s breakfast hour was nine o’clock on ordinary days, made thus late for the sake of convenience. On Sundays it was half-past eight. Discipline and training had rendered it easy to observe rules at Mr. Channing’s; or, it may be better to say, it had rendered them difficult to be disobeyed. At half-past eight all were in the breakfast-room, dressed for the day. When the hour for divine service arrived, they had only to put on their hats and bonnets to be ready for it. Even old Judy was grand on a Sunday morning. Her mob-cap was of spotted, instead of plain net, and her check apron was replaced by a white one. With great personal inconvenience, and some pain--for he was always worse in the morning--Mr. Channing would on that day rise to breakfast. It had been his invariable custom to take the reading himself on Sunday--the little time he devoted to religion--and he was unwilling to break through it. Breakfast over, it was immediately entered upon, and would be finished by ten o’clock. He did not preach a sermon; he did not give them much reading; it was only a little homely preparation for the day and the services they were about to enter upon. Very unwise had it been of Mr. Channing, to tire his children with a private service before the public service began.