e little Japanese cabinet, read and re-read and
approved of many times over, not to say, if the truth were known,
rewritten more than once, though dated as in the first instance--and
this, too, though Christina was fond enough of a joke in a small way.

Ernest, still in Mrs Jay's room mused onward. "Grown-up people," he said
to himself, "when they were ladies and gentlemen, never did naughty
things, but he was always doing them. He had heard that some grown-up
people were worldly, which of course was wrong, still this was quite
distinct from being naughty, and did not get them punished or scolded.
His own Papa and Mamma were not even worldly; they had often explained to
him that they were exceptionally unworldly; he well knew that they had
never done anything naughty since they had been children, and that even
as children they had been nearly faultless. Oh! how different from
himself! When should he learn to love his Papa and Mamma as they had
loved theirs? How could he hope ever to grow up to be as good and wise
as they, or even tolerably good and wise? Alas! never. It could not be.
He did not love his Papa and Mamma, in spite of all their goodness both
in themselves and to him. He hated Papa, and did not like Mamma, and
this was what none but a bad and ungrateful boy would do after all that
had been done for him. Besides he did not like Sunday; he did not like
anything that was really good; his tastes were low and such as he was
ashamed of. He liked people best if they sometimes swore a little, so
long as it was not at him. As for his Catechism and Bible readings he
had no heart in them. He had never attended to a sermon in his life.
Even when he had been taken to hear Mr Vaughan at Brighton, who, as
everyone knew, preached such beautiful sermons for children, he had been
very glad when it was all over, nor did he believe he could get through
church at all if it was not for the voluntary upon the organ and the
hymns and chanting. The Catechism was awful. He had never been able to
understand what it was that he desired of his Lord God and Heavenly
Father, nor had he yet got hold of a single idea in connection with the
word Sacrament. His duty towards his neighbour was another bugbear. It
seemed to him that he had duties towards everybody, lying in wait for him
upon every side, but that nobody had any duties towards him. Then there
was that awful and mysterious word 'business.' What did it all mean?
Wha