" and
she took out a crumpled envelope, directed in Aunt Mary's handwriting
to Fred, on the back of which Alex had written, "Dear B., we beg pardon,
but Carey and Dick are going up to Andrews's about his terrier.--A. L."
"Very cool, certainly!" said Beatrice, laughing, but still with a little
pique. "What a life I will lead them!"

"Well, you were a true prophet," said Henrietta, "and after all it does
not much signify. They have done all the work that is out of reach; but
still I thought Fred would have behaved better."

"You have yet to learn the difference between Fred with you or with me,
and Fred with his own congeners," said Beatrice; "you don't know half
the phases of boy nature."

Henrietta sighed; for Fred had certainly not been quite what she
expected him to-day. Not because he had appeared to forget her, for that
was nothing--that was only appearance, and her love was too healthy and
true even to feel it neglect; but he had forgotten his father's grave.
He was now neglecting the church; and far from its consoling her to hear
that it was the way with all boys when they came together, it gave her
one moment's doubt whether they were not happier, when they were all in
all to each other at Rocksand.

It was but for one instant that she felt this impression; the next it
had passed away, and she was sharing the gingerbread with her cousin,
and smiling at the great admiration in which it seemed to be held by
the natives of Knight Sutton. They took a short walk up and down the
churchyard while eating it, and then returned to their occupation, well
pleased, on re-entering, to see how much show they had made already.
They worked together very happily; indeed, now that all thought of her
squires was quite out of her head, Beatrice worked much more in earnest
and in the right kind of frame; something more of the true spirit of
this service came over her, and she really possessed some of that temper
of devotion which she fancied had been with her the whole day.

It was a beautiful thing when Henrietta raised her face, as she was
kneeling by the font, and her clear sweet voice began at first in a low,
timid note, but gradually growing fuller and stronger--

"Hark! the herald angels sing Glory to the new-born King, Peace on
earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled."

Beatrice took up the strain at the first line, and sweetly did their
tones echo through the building; while their hearts swelled with delig