Janice hunched her shoulders and remarked, "Never fear
that Master Hennion is not hungry. He is like the roaring
lion, who 'walketh about seeking whom he may devour.'"

"Black shame on thee, Janice Meredith, for applying the
Holy Word to carnal things," cried her mother.

"Then let me read novels," muttered Miss Meredith, but so
indistinctly as not to be understood.

"Be still, child!" commanded her mother.

"And listen to Philemon glub-glub-bing over his victuals?"

"Philemon is no pig," declared Mrs. Meredith.

"No," assented Janice. "He 's too old for that,"--a remark
which set Mr. Meredith off into an uproarious haw-haw.

"Lambert," protested his wife, "I lose patience with thee
for encouraging this stiff-necked and wayward girl, when she
should be thankful that Providence has made one man who
wants so saucy a Miss Prat-a-pace for a wife."

Miss Meredith, evidently encouraged by her father's humour,
made a mouth, and droned in a sing-song voice: "'What doth
every sin deserve? Every sin deserveth God's wrath and
curse, both in this life and that which is to come.'" Such a
desecration of the Westminster Assembly of Divines' "Shorter
Catechism" would doubtless have produced further and severer