I told him the name of our town. When we give a person
information, I have always heard that we ought to make it
complete. So I mentioned our address in the town. But I was
troubled by a doubt. Perhaps he preferred the country. Being
anxious about this, I said: "Would you rather have heard that
I live in the country?"

"Live where you may, Eunice, the place will be a favorite place
of mine. Besides, your town is famous. It has a public attraction
which brings visitors to it."

I made another of those mistakes which no sensible girl, in
my position, would have committed. I asked if he alluded to
our new market-place.

He set me right in the sweetest manner: "I alluded to a building
hundreds of years older than your market-place--your beautiful
cathedral."

Fancy my not having thought of the cathedral! This is what comes
of being a Congregationalist. If I had belonged to the Church of
England, I should have forgotten the market-place, and remembered
the cathedral. Not that I want to belong to the Church of
England. Papa's chapel is good enough for me.

The song sung by the lady with the small voice was so pretty
that the audience encored it. Didn't Philip and I help them! With
the sweetest smiles the lady sang it all over again. The people
behind us left the concert.