I looked at Betty’s serious little face and wished that I could for one moment read her thoughts.  Her eyes, such lovely eyes, were fixed on the preacher’s face.  What did his sermon convey to her?  It was a particularly uninteresting one, I remember, an appeal on behalf of the curates’ fund.  Her eyes never left his face —­ such solemn, searching, truthful eyes.  I think a child like Betty should not be allowed to go to church on such occasions, for what is the use of preaching against matrimony on the one hand, and that, I suppose, is what the moral of such a sermon should be, —­ and on the other hand holding up an incentive to matrimony in the very alluring shape of Betty?  For, personally, I think Betty would be a very wonderful possession for any curate to have.

Hugh was growing restless and I was bearing the brunt of it.  Nannie, feeling for me, leaned over from the back pew and said, “Don’t rest your head on your Aunt Woggles.”

“I came to church on purpose to rest my head on my Aunt Woggles’s chest,” said Hugh, again in what he calls a whisper.  A moment later, he asked, “Is it done?”

It was, and he jumped up.

“May I sit next you next Sunday, Aunt Woggles?” he said, so soon as we got outside the church door.

“No, Hugh,” I said.

“I bet I do, all the same,” he said.

“Aunt Woggles,” said Betty, as we walked home, “I collect for the prevention of children; do you suppose Mr. Dudley would give me a penny?”

“I am sure he would, darling, but it is the prevention of cruelty to children —­ the prevention of cruelty.”

“That’s such a long thing to say, Aunt Woggles, don’t you suppose he would understand if I did say it a little wrong?”

“Perhaps, darling, but it is always best to say things right.”

“Yes, I will, but I was only supposing, supposing I didn’t.”

At luncheon Diana cautioned Betty against swallowing a fish-bone.  “You might die, darling, if you did.”

“Then I shall swallow every single bone I can,” announced Betty.

“But, darling,” said Diana, “why do you say that?  You don’t want to die.  You are quite happy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m very happy, but I want to die, all the same.”

“Oh, darling, don’t say that,” said Diana; “there is a great deal for you to do in this world before you die.”

“Yes, but you see, darling,” said Betty, “if I don’t die soon, I shall be too old to sit on Jesus’ knee.”

Diana is very particular about the children’s manners, and Hugh came face to face with a great difficulty a moment later, over his ginger beer.  “If I don’t say I thank you, mother doesn’t like it, and if I do say I thank you, Bindon stops pouring.”

Chapter VI