"I vow I'll never have a mission in life," said Katharine, "if it means giving up everything that makes one happy. Poor daddy!" "One of Christ's elect," continued Miss Esther, "to be turned aside for a bit of tawdry pewter! For what you can see in a tarnished, old-fashioned thing like that, is more than I can understand." The Rector looked up for the first time. "Indeed, Esther," he said in a hurt tone, "it is a fine piece of sixteenth century silver." Katharine cast a wrathful look at the stern figure near the reading-lamp, and came over to her father's side. The rebellious note had gone from her voice altogether as she spoke to him. "Let me look, daddy, may I?" she asked. Cyril Austen pulled her on to his knee, and they bent together over the old spoon. Miss Esther knitted silently. "Let me see," said the Rector presently, turning an unruffled countenance towards his sister, "what were we saying? About some parishioners, wasn't it?" "Parishioners? How can you talk of parishioners, when the first trivial temptation draws you from the right path and--and makes you late for meals? Isn't it enough to neglect your sacred duty, without upsetting the household as well? Coming in at this time of--what is it now, Cyril?" For a worried look had suddenly crossed the Rector's face. He pulled out his watch, and consulted it with the nervous haste of a man who is constantly haunted by having forgotten something. "Let me see,--how very stupid of me," he said, laughing slightly. "I fancy there was something else, now; whatever could it have been, I wonder? It was not the spoon, Esther, that made me late. Kitty, my child, what did I say to you when I came in, just now?" "You said, 'I have picked up a genuine rat-tail at Walker's;' and then you gave your hat to Jim, and hung up the whip on the hat peg!" "Bad child!" said the Rector, still looking uneasily about him. "I wonder if Jim would know?" But here a light was thrown on the matter by the entrance of Dorcas, who brought the ambiguous message from Jim that the pony was ready to start again, if the Rector was "going to do anything about the poor creature down agin the chalk pit." "Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Rector. "To be sure, that was it. Esther, brandy and blankets, my dear,--anything you've got! We must bring him home at once, of course. I knew there was something. Esther, will you--? Ah, she always understands." For, to do her credit, Miss Esther never wasted her time in reproaches when there was really something to be done; and in the bustle that followed, while the pony carriage was being filled with everything that could be of use in case of an accident, Katharine found herself left in the hall, with the intolerable feeling of being neglected, and burning with curiosity as to the cause of it all. "Daddy, daddy, what is it? Is any one hurt? Mayn't I come too?" she pleaded, as the Rector came out to look for his coat.