There was nothing to denote fieriness in Noel's attitude as he composed himself a few seconds later for the ceremony of Peggy's devotions. It was a very simple ceremony, but conducted with extreme decorum, Peggy's _ayah_ being sternly dismissed as a preliminary. Noel sat on the edge of the bed while its small owner knelt upon it, head bowed in hands and lodged upon his shoulder. He had made a tentative movement to encircle her with his arm, but this had been gently but quite firmly forbidden. "You mustn't cuddle while I'm sayin' my prayers," said Peggy. "You must put your hands together and shut your eyes. That's what Mummy does." Noel complied with these instructions, but when Peggy was fairly launched he ventured to violate the last and steal a look at the fair head that rested against his shoulder. Peggy was saying the Lord's Prayer with evident enjoyment. Noel listened with respect. There was the swish of a woman's dress in the passage outside. He listened to that also, his dark eyes watching the half-open door. His attention began to wander. "Noel!" said a small, hurt voice at his side. Noel's eyes shut as if at the pulling of a string. "Sorry, Peg-top! Go ahead!" "You mustn't call me Peg-top when I'm sayin' my prayers!" protested Peggy. "I wanted you to say Amen." "Amen," said Noel humbly. "It's no good now." There was a sound of tears in Peggy's voice. "You've just spoilt it all." "Oh, I say!" pleaded Noel. "Well, try again! I'll say it next time." "Can't," said Peggy. "It's wrong to keep on sayin' the same thing." "I never heard that before," said Noel. "It's in the Bible," asserted Peggy. "Is it?" Noel sounded faintly incredulous. "Yes, it is." There was a touch of indignation in Peggy's rejoinder. "It's what the heathen do," she said. Noel ventured to open his eyes, and found hers fixed severely upon him. "Well, I'm awfully sorry," he said. "What had we better do?" "You're not sorry," said Peggy accusingly. "Your eyes are all laughy." "I'll swear they're not," declared Noel. "But I say, hadn't you better finish? Then we can have a cuddle." "But I can't finish," said Peggy. "Why not?" "'Cos you interrupted, and I can't begin again." There was more than the sound of tears this time; the blue eyes were suddenly swimming in them. "And I haven't said my hymn, and you don't care a bit," she said in a voice that quivered ominously. Matters were evidently getting desperate. "Yes, but you can say the rest," argued Noel, with the feeling that he was losing ground every instant. "What do you generally say next?" "No, I can't. It wouldn't be sayin' them properly, and God doesn't listen if you don't say them properly." Here was a formidable difficulty; but Noel's brain was fertile. He had a sudden inspiration. "Look here!" he said. "I'll say the first part again for you, and you can say Amen. I haven't said mine yet, you know, so it doesn't matter for me. Then you can go on and finish. Will that do?"