“You did come along fast, old man,” said Mr. Dudley.

“It wasn’t me, it was you,” panted Hugh.  “It truthfully was, Aunt Woggles, and he wasn’t going to church at all till I told him you were going.  I’m awfully out of breath because he wanted to catch you up, so it wasn’t me all the time.”

I was sorry Hugh and Mr. Dudley had caught us up.

Mr. Dudley murmured something about “Young ruffian,” and I felt it my duty as well as my pleasure to tell Hugh not to talk so much.

“I ’sect you want to sit next my Aunt Woggles, don’t you?” said Hugh to Mr. Dudley; “but you can’t, because I said, ’bags I sit next Aunt Woggles in church’ before she came to stay, ever so long before, before two Christmases ago, I should think it was, or nearly before two Christmases ago!”

Betty’s grasp on my hand tightened, and I returned it with a reassuring pressure, as much as to say, “There are two sides to every aunt in church, dear Betty; it is a comfort to know that.”

“I may sit next you, mayn’t I?”

“Yes, Betty,” I said.

“You are very rosy, Aunt Woggles,” said Hugh.  “Do you love my Aunt Woggles?” he continued, dancing backward in front of Mr. Dudley.

“Of course he does,” I said boldly, taking the bull by the horns.  “Mr.Dudley loves even his enemies, especially on Sundays.”

Hugh looked puzzled, and pondered.  Before he had come to any definite conclusion as to how this affected Mr. Dudley’s feelings towards me, we reached the lichgate, where we found the rest of the party awaiting us.  We all separated:  Diana took Betty, who gazed at me mournfully, but was too loyal to her mother to say anything; Hugh gave a series of triumphant jumps, which added pain to Betty’s already disappointed expression.

In church I found myself allotted to what we call the overflow pew, which is at right angles to the family pews and in full view of them.  It is the children’s favorite pew only, I imagine, because they don’t always sit there.  Hugh sat very close to me, and kept on giving little wriggles and gazing up at me, then at Mr. Dudley, and snuggling closer to me as if to emphasize the superiority of his position over that of Mr. Dudley.

“Hugh,” I whispered, “you must behave.”

“He didn’t sit next you, after all,” he whispered.

I say whispered, but must explain that Hugh’s whisper is a very far-reaching thing.  He loves a victory.  I hope that when he grows up he will be a generous victor.  He says he is going to be a dangerous man; I can believe it.

Betty, the vanquished one, stared solemnly in front of her, not deigning to notice Hugh’s triumph.  What pleasure is there to children in sitting next to some particular person in church?  I remember, as a child, it was a matter of earnest prayer during the week that on Sunday I might sit next, some particular person in church.  “And, O Lord, if it be for my good, let me sit next the door.”  A child’s religion is a very real thing to him, and not only a Saturday-to-Monday thing.