experiences, was over, the children found themselves very weary,--the
two little girls at least: Max wouldn't acknowledge that he was at all
fatigued, but was quite willing to comply with his father's suggestion
that it would be wise for him, as well as for his sisters, to go early
to bed.

While Lulu was making ready for hers, her thoughts turned upon the
morrow, bringing with them a new source of disquiet.

"Papa," she said pleadingly, when he came in to bid her good-night,
"mayn't I stay at home to-morrow?"

"Stay at home from church? Not unless you are sick, or the weather quite
too bad for you to go out. Why should you wish it?"

"Because--because--I--I'm afraid people have heard about--about how bad
I was the other day; and--so I--I can't bear to go where I'll--be seen
by strangers. No, I mean by folks out of the house that know who I am,
and what happened the other day."

"My child, I am sorry for you," he said, taking her on his knee; "but it
is a part of the punishment you have brought upon yourself, and will
have to bear."

"But let me stay at home to-morrow, won't you?"

"No: it is a duty to go to church, as well as a privilege to be allowed
to do so.

"'Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of