"Thank you, I--I would like to. That is, if I may--if I won't be in
the way or--or--or--will you hold my hand so I won't go wrong?" he
finished in laughing confusion as the color came under the tan of his
cheeks to match that in hers and the young look lay for a moment in
his eyes. "It'll be my début at family worship," he added quickly to
cover his confusion.

"Don't worry, Uncle Tucker leads it," answered Rose Mary as they
ascended the front steps and came across the front porch to the
doorway of the wide hall, which was the living-room, as well as the
artery of the Briars.

And a decorous and seemly scene they stepped in upon. Uncle Tucker sat
back of a small table, which was placed at one side of the wide open
fireplace, in which crackled a bit of fragrant, spring fire. His Bible
and a couple of hymn-books rested in front of him, his gray forelock
had been meekly plastered down and the jocund lavender scarf had been
laid aside to display a straight white collar and clerical black bow
tie. His eyes were bent on the book before him as he sought for the
text for the morning lesson. Aunt Viney sat close beside him as if
anxious to be as near to the source of worship as possible, though the
strain of refraining from directing Uncle Tucker in the conducting
thereof was very great. The tradition which forced silence upon women
in places of public worship had held with Miss Lavinia only by the
exercising of the sternest and most rigorous self-suppression, which
at any time might have been broken except for the curbing of her iron
will.

But even though silent she was still dominant, and over her glasses
her eyes shot glances of stern rebuke at two offenders in a distant