"Here I have been trying so long to convert him," she said to herself, "and after all he is far better than I am. Nothing could make _him_ laugh in church!" Thus humbled, Viola entered into the service with all her heart, and listened to the sermon with eager attention, striving to catch its meaning, though only able to do so in a dim and misty way, so new was the language. There were many old people in the congregation, some of whom slept through the whole service, while others coughed; there was also no small variety of babies, who cried whenever they saw fit, and were pacified with onions by their mothers. "I never will bring my baby to church," thought Viola, "and on no account will I feed it with onions! But here I am again, as wicked as ever, and not listening to the sermon at all. Ah, I will pinch myself black-and-blue till I learn to fix my thoughts better! Oh, Jesus--the Jesus Olaf loves--come and help me to be good!" This prayer went forth from the very depths of her heart, and an answer came at once. It seemed as if scales fell from her eyes at that moment, and she felt her soul united to Olaf's and those of the true souls about her; felt the points of union and forgot the points of difference, and with all the warmth of her nature, gave herself to Christ. Ever after, this beautiful Sunday lived in her mind and in that of Olaf's as the bright spot in their lives, for thenceforth there was no discussion, no 'my religion,' and 'thy religion,' but a gradual, quiet union of belief and practice. "There's the lunch-bell!" said Mrs. Grey, as Laura finished the last sentence. "We'll hear the rest after we have sustained ourselves with oysters and other creature comforts. Gabrielle, my dear, please don't drag on your father so; you may love him to your heart's content, but you needn't eat him up." Gabrielle would once have fired up at even as good-humored banter as this, and Frank was astonished to see her loosen the hold she had on his arm, and let him follow his mother's significant glance, and offer it to his wife. After lunch there was an hour with the little ones, and any amount of fun and frolic, headed by the Rev. Cyril, whose specialty it was to be a bear, and go round, on all-fours, after a shrieking, laughing, scampering crowd. At length, order was restored, the family group reassembled, and Laura continued her story. CHAPTER XX. Some months later, as Olaf held in his big arms his first-born son, Viola shyly whispered: "It was to have been a girl, but for your sake I decided it should be a boy. Thinking of it on that blessed Sunday, I laughed, wicked little creature that I was. He is not like you, neither is he like me; indeed he is very ugly; but who cares? We shall love him just the same!" "Nay, I will not have him called 'ugly,'" said his father, "for he has your hair, Viola, and my eyes, and haven't you told me a thousand times you fell in love with me on account of my blue eyes?"