"Davie means that there is something besides one's pleasure to be considered in this world," said Frank.

"David means that Jem can find pleasure and profit without going so far for them," said Mrs Inglis.

"David is a young prig," said Mr Philip to himself, and as they were going home he said it to his brother in decided terms.

"That's your idea of it, is it?" said Frank. "You know just about as much of Davie and Aunt Mary, and that sort of people, as I know about the Emperor of China. I know there _is_ such a person, and that is all I do know."

Philip laughed.

"It is never too late to learn, and if they have no objection, I mean to know them better."

"They are not your kind of people," said Frank, decidedly.

"You mean they are very good and religious and all. I am not a heathen or a Turk, Frank, my boy."

"I could never make you understand the difference," said Frank, gravely.

"Never make you understand!" said Philip, mimicking his voice and manner. "I think I can understand them pretty well without your help.

Don't trouble yourself. They are just like other people. It is true that Mrs Inglis looks just as much of a lady in her plain gown and in that shabby room as she could in any of the fine drawing-rooms, and that is more than could be said of some of the ladies I know. She is a good woman, too, I am sure. As for Davie, he is a young prig--though he is good, too, I dare say. Violet is a little modest flower. They are very nice, all of them, but they are not beyond my powers of comprehension, I fancy, Frank, lad."

"All right, if you think so," said Frank.

Philip was amused and a little vexed at his brother's persistency.

"Do you know them, Frank,--'understand' them, as you call it?"

"I know they are very different from us, and from all the people we know most about, and I think I know what makes the difference, though I don't quite understand it. You would know what I mean if you had seen Mr Inglis and knew the kind of life he lived."

"I have seen, and I know what his character was. He was an unworldly sort of man, I believe."

"He did not live for his own pleasure," said Frank, gravely. "He wasn't his own. He lived to serve his Master. I can't tell you. You should speak to Davie or Violet about him, or to Aunt Mary."

"Well, so I will, some day," said Philip.

Frank made no reply.

In the meantime Mr Philip was being just as freely discussed by the young people they had left. Jem was delighted with their new friend.

He was a fine fellow, not at all "swell," as he had supposed. Jem grew enthusiastic over his friendliness, his boat, his rowing, and hoped he might come often. So did the little ones.

"David does not like him," said Violet.

"I liked him this afternoon well enough," said David.

"Yes, he was nice this afternoon; but he is not always nice with his sisters. He is good to the little ones," said Violet.

"I dare say his sisters are not very good to him. I can easily believe it," said Jem.

"He is not like the people we have been taught to admire," said David.

"He always thinks of himself first," said Violet. "And he is not really in earnest about anything."

"Mamma, listen to Davie and Letty speaking evil of their neighbours,"

said Jem.

"Not speaking evil, I hope," said Mrs Inglis, "but still not speaking with charity, I am afraid."

"I was not speaking evil of him, mamma," said Violet. "I only meant that he does not care for anything very much, except to amuse himself.

I think he is rather foolish, but I would not speak evil of him."

"See that you don't, then," said Jem.

"He made himself very agreeable this afternoon, that is all we need say," said Mrs Inglis. "We are not likely to see very much of him in future."

Nothing more was said at that time. They saw a good deal of both brothers during the next few weeks. But they saw nothing for a good while that inclined either Violet or Davie to change their opinion of the elder one.

The next day Frank came home with them from church. He was the only one of the family at church that day, for it had rained in the morning, and they were not very regular churchgoers at the best of times.

"Papa said I might go home with you, if Aunt Mary asked me," said Frank, as he joined them at the door.

"Come on, then," said Jem. "Mamma doesn't approve of Sunday visiting, as a general thing, but you are one of ourselves by this time. Mamma, ask Frank to come."

Mrs Inglis smiled.

"Come and read with the children, Frank," said she.

Frank was only too happy to go. He did not go to the Sunday-school with the others, but chose to stay at home with Mrs Inglis and little Mary.

But the first person the others saw when they came to Muddy Lane was Mr Philip, waiting for them at the corner, as though it were the most natural and proper thing in the world for him to be there.

"I came to hear what your friend Mr Caldwell has to say to-day, Jem,"

said he.

"All right!" said Jem. "He will have something appropriate to say about Sabbath-breaking, I dare say."

"I am sure I don't know why," said Philip, laughing.

"He'll tell you why," said Jem.

David did not say it was all right, nor think it. Indeed, it proved to his mind to be all wrong, for Mr Caldwell did not make his appearance at all.

"To think of his failing to-day, of all days," said David.

They waited for him a long time, till the children became restless and impatient.

"We ought to begin, Davie," said Violet.

"Yes. I wouldn't mind if we were by ourselves."

"Why should you mind now? Go ahead, Davie. If he laughs, I'll knock him down," said Jem.