at about half-past eleven, when the light was likely to be best.

It was a sunny day, and wonderfully bright for January. She had meant to
go alone, but the children were on the look-out, and tracked her, so she
arrived at the church door closely followed by Letty, Mamie, Godfrey,
Ernie and Dorrie. She hesitated for a moment whether to send them
straight home or not, but the church was a mile from Highfield, and the
mill weir, a place of fascination to Ernie, lay on the way, so she
decided that it would be safest to let well alone.

"They're imps, but they'll have to behave themselves decently in
church," she said to herself.

At present the conduct of the family was exemplary. They walked in on
tip-toe, and talked in whispers. Mamie, indeed, cast an envious eye
towards the forbidden ground of the pulpit, into which it was her
ambition some day to climb, and wave her arms about in imitation of the
Vicar, but she valiantly restrained her longings, and kept from the
neighborhood of the chancel. Letty took a surreptitious peep at the
organ, and was disappointed to find it locked, as was also the little
oak door that led up the winding staircase to the bell tower. She
decided that the parish clerk was much too attentive to his duties.

"Come along over here, can't you?" said Winona suspiciously. "Leave
those hymn-books alone, and tell Dorrie she's not to touch the font, or
I'll stick her inside and pop the lid on her. Go and sit down, all of
you, in that pew, while I take the photo."

The family for once complied obediently, if somewhat reluctantly. It was
better to play the part of spectators than to be left out of the