“It was great fun to watch uncle—­he’s very dignified in his official capacity.  He frowned as it was handed him, as if not liking the intrusion into holy routine.  He did not open it at once but sat there holding it rebukingly—­me chuckling down in the family pew.  Then he adjusted his glasses and opened it—­ponderously.  I wish you could have seen his face!  One of our friends said he supposed it read, ’Will give fifty thousand.’  He quickly recalled his robes and suppressed his grin, contenting himself with a beatific expression which must have been very uplifting to the congregation.  I think I never saw uncle look so spiritual.  And I know I never heard him preach as feelingly.  When he came to the place about when sorrow has been upon the heart, and seemed more than the heart could bear, but when the weight is lifted, as the loving Father so often does mercifully lift it—­oh I tell you there were tears in more eyes than uncle’s.  I had my suspicions, and that night I asked, ’Uncle, did you preach the sermon you meant to preach this morning?’ And uncle—­if he weren’t a bishop I would say he winked at me—­replied, ’No, dear little shark.  I had meant to preach the one about man yearning for Heaven because earth is a vale of tears.’  I’m just telling you this yarn, Ann, to make you see that religion doesn’t necessarily rule out the love of dogs.”

“It’s a nice story, and I’m glad you told me,” replied Ann.  “Only my father would say that your uncle had no religion.”

Katie laughed.  “A remark which has not gone unremarked.  Certainly he hasn’t enough to let it harden his heart.  As I am beginning to think about things now it seems to me uncle might stand for more vital things than he does, but for all that I believe he can love God the more for loving Caesar so well.”

They were quiet for a time, thinking of Ann’s father and Katie’s uncle; the love of God and the love of dogs and the love of man.  Many things.  Then Ann said:  “Naturally you and I don’t look at it the same way.  I see you were brought up on a pleasant kind of religion.  The kind that doesn’t matter.”

That phrase started the electric batteries within Katie and the batteries got so active she had to go for a walk.

In the course of the walk she stopped at the shops to see Wayne.  She wanted to know if he would let Worth go into the country for a week with Ann.  An old servant of theirs—­a woman who had been friend as well as servant to Katie’s mother—­lived on a farm about ten miles up the river and it had been planned that Worth—­and Katie, too, if she would—­go up there for a week or more during the summer.  It seemed just the thing for Ann.  It would get her away from Captain Prescott and his mother, and from Major Darrett, who was coming in a few days.  Katie believed Ann would like to be away from them all for about a week, and get her bearings anew.  And Katie herself would like to be alone for a time and get her bearings, too, and make some plans.  In one way or other she was going to help Ann find her real Something Somewhere.  Perhaps she would take her to Europe.  But until things settled down, as Katie vaguely put it, she thought it just the thing for Ann to have the little trip with Worth.