On the next Sunday morning, as Roland and Effie were on their way to the Sunday-school, whom should they see, smiling at them from the carriage window, but Madeline, who was riding out with her Aunt Matilda. Roland hoped that they were going to church; but he had some doubts, for he had seldom heard the child speak about the house of God. In the evening they met at the cemetery, for it was a common thing for Madeline to walk there on Sunday. "Where were you going, this morning, Maddy?" inquired her friend. "Aunty and I were taking a ride to see Mrs. Linden; she has not been very well all the week, and she thought that a ride would do her good." "But, Maddy, don't you know that this is God's day, and that we are commanded to keep it holy?" "I have never been taught, Roland, to make much difference; papa spends his Sunday mornings in the library; Aunt Matilda often has the head-ache, and cannot go out, and then I run off down to the shore with Hector, or else take the boat, and paddle about on the lake." "God did not give us the day of rest for our own pleasure, Maddy; it is the day when we ought to think especially of holy things, and spend it in such a way as will do our souls good, and please our Father in heaven." "What do you do on Sunday, Roland?" "We go to the Sunday-school, where we learn about our blessed Saviour, and join in singing sweet praises to his holy name; then we go to church; and when we come home, dear mother always contrives something nicer for dinner than on other days, though remember, Maddy, it is prepared the day before; then she explains the Bible to us, and tells us some of those old Scotch stories, which we love to hear, about the holy men who died for their religion. Sunday is such a sweet day at our little cottage, we are all so close together then, and we feel how blessed is the thought that we shall spend our heavenly Sabbath together forever and ever." "Oh, Roland! how different you are from us at Woodcliff. I get so tired of running about; I get tired of reading; I have no one to speak to, and we don't go to church more than once in every few weeks. I run out in the kitchen and talk to our old cook, then I go talk to my pets, then I run into the library and read a little, but all the time, Roland, I want something that I cannot find." "I wonder if your father would let you come to our Sunday-school?" "I'll ask him, Roland; what do you do there?" "We learn Bible lessons, hymns, and catechism; we have such kind, excellent teachers; and once a month we have missionary meetings." "I should think that it was very stupid to hear nothing all the time, but solemn talk about death and judgment." Roland smiled. "We hear of something else, Maddy; about the blessed Saviour, the friend of sinners, and about that happy land where Christians hope to go." Maddy turned an earnest look upon Roland's face.