"I don't believe she is sorry we are disappointed though," said Ellen; "you know she is rather religious, and I dare say her mother is as stiff as buckram, and does nothing but read the Bible, and sing psalms; or perhaps she will give you a lecture. Poor Jane, how you will repent going within her reach!" And Ellen laughed satirically at the idea of her sister's mortification under the lecture of her religious hostess. "For shame, Ellen," said Jane, half vexed and half laughing; "what right have you to object to her reading the Bible and singing psalms if it makes her comfortable? What else have old people to do? Enjoyment is all over for them; and if they can get up something to pass away their time, and make them easy about death, I'm sure I think it is a great mercy for them. Besides, it is Sunday you know and a little religion once a week is only proper for everybody, I suppose." "Well, then," retorted Ellen, "why did you not go to church this morning, instead of grumbling here with me?" "Because," replied Jane, with honesty, "I did not like to spoil my best things, and I did not choose to go in shabby ones. I can tell you, I envied Mary that comfortable cloak, that we laughed at her for buying, instead of having a pretty fancy mantle like ours. She thought of the wet days, we only of the fine ones." "I do hate wet Sundays," exclaimed Ellen passionately; "I can't think what they are made for, except it is to disappoint people who work hard all the week and have no other day to enjoy themselves in." Jane looked at her sister with mingled surprise and compassion. She had quite recovered from her own annoyance, and had never seen Ellen so thoroughly out of temper on the subject before; and she justly feared that something more was involved in the disappointment than she was at present aware of. "Will it be of any use for me to stay at home with you, Ellen?" said she, kindly. "I forgot when I accepted Mary's invitation, that you would be alone." "O dear no, go by all means, and see how you like the old woman's lecture. I dare say I shall hit upon some way to amuse myself by and by." When Mary reached home in the afternoon, she found Jane seated there, without any trace of weariness or discontent visible on her bright face. She knew something of her mother's powers to attract and interest, and was not surprised when Jane, turning round to notice her entrance, exclaimed playfully, "I can't talk to you yet, Mary; I must hear the end of what your mother is telling me first." "Are you wet, dear?" asked the mother, as Mary threw off her cloak. "Scarcely at all, mother, thank you; I am so glad I had this useful cloak." "Ah, Mrs. Davis," said Jane, "Mary is a sensible girl; who knows it is not all sunshine in this world, and we could not persuade her to buy a thing that would not stand a shower."