Thus to be left out of everything suited me no more than it would most people. Heaven is a place that makes one feel sociable, so I made what haste I could to get downstairs. There I found our mother very busy preparing breakfast; but she was never busy long, she had the knack of preparing things quickly. Virginius was helping her with what little help she needed, and when all was in readiness he went to the window and called the children. “Genius,” said he at breakfast, “I am going to pay a few calls this morning. Will you come with me?” “Most willingly.” “If I take you to see Jesus of Nazareth, you will not be too grieved if you find Him in simple dress and minus a throne.” “No,” I rejoined. “The grandeur of a throne has long ceased to interest me. If I may be allowed to see Him in the simplicity which marked Him when on earth I shall count myself honoured indeed.” “Are we to go too?” asked Sunbeam. “No. We will go later in the day,” replied our mother. “We are going for afternoon tea,” said Moonbeam. “That’s better than going in the morning when all the work is being done.” “Yes, of course,” agreed Sunbeam, wisely. “I don’t like paying morning calls, except to the butterflies and birds. It looks as if you’ve mistaken the time.” When breakfast was over Virginius and I went through the city. Occasionally we met someone with whom my companion was well acquainted, and with these we stayed some little time. But not for long, for the general air of the place was work and business, such as left little time for anything beside. At last we came to a street somewhat quieter than those down which we had been walking, and into this Virginius turned. It was cool and shaded, and on the ground shadows and golden light played from the trees and sun. A low, long house built in white stone lay in a brilliant, flowery garden. Behind rose the hills clothed with dark trees, and stretching away into the distance till their white peaks seemed to shine and touch the sun rays that glinted down to them. Opposite the house, divided from it by the road down which we passed, was another. It was built like some old chateau, but it had wide-open windows. In front stretched a lake on which birds were swimming, and the croak of an occasional frog was heard. “You keep those animals here?” I queried. Virginius smiled. “Yes,” he answered. “We keep everything that has a mind to come to us. Most of those have been under the vivisectionist’s knife. We are more merciful than he, and we count the suffering and death as a sacrifice for humanity. “I don’t think anyone would grudge them their happiness, and they are very grateful for this new home.” “Heaven is a wonderful place,” I said. “Yes, it is about as wonderful as Hell.” * * * * * _Several pages here omitted_ * * * * *