heir old church
home. Possibly they might have done so had not the congregation called
the young, newly fledged James Anderson. Mary Isabel would not have
cared for this, but Louisa sternly said that neither she nor any of
hers should ever darken the doors of a church where the nephew of
Martin Hamilton preached. Mary Isabel had regretfully acquiesced at
the time, but now she had made up her mind to go to church and she
meant to begin with the induction service.

Louisa stared at her sister incredulously.

"Have you taken complete leave of your senses, Mary Isabel?"

"No. I've just come to them," retorted Mary Isabel recklessly,
gripping a chair-back desperately so that Louisa should not see how
she was trembling. "It is all foolishness to keep away from church
just because of an old grudge. I'm tired of staying home Sundays or
driving fifteen miles to Marwood to hear poor old Mr. Grattan.
Everybody says Mr. Anderson is a splendid young man and an excellent
preacher, and I'm going to attend his services regularly."

Louisa had taken Mary Isabel's first defiance in icy disdain. Now she
lost her temper and raged. The storm of angry words beat on Mary
Isabel like hail, but she fronted it staunchly. She seemed to hear
Tom's voice saying, "Live your own life, Mary Isabel; don't let Louisa
live it for you," and she meant to obey him.

"If you go to that man's induction I'll never forgive you," Louisa
concluded.

Mary Isabel said nothing. She just primmed up her lips very
determinedly, picked up the silk dress, and carried it to her room.

The next day was fine and warm. Louisa said no word all the morning.
She worked fiercely and slammed things around noisily. After dinner
Mary Isabel went to her room and came down presently, fine and dainty
in her grey silk, with the forget-me-not hat resting on the soft loose
waves of her hair. Louisa was blacking the kitchen stove.

She shot one angry glance at Mary Isabel, then gave a short,
contemptuous laugh, the laugh of an angry woman who finds herself
robbed of all weapons except ridicule.

Mary Isabel flushed and walked with an unfaltering step out of the
house and up the lane. She resented Louisa's laughter. She was sure
there was nothing so very ridiculous about her appearance. Women far
older than she, even in Latimer, wore light dresses and fashionable
hats. Really, Louisa was very disagreeable.

"I have put up with her ways too long," thought Mary Isabel, with a
qu