Aunt Woggles?" he continued, dancing backward in front of Mr.
Dudley.

"Of course he does," I said boldly, taking the bull by the horns.
"Mr.Dudley loves even his enemies, especially on Sundays."

Hugh looked puzzled, and pondered. Before he had come to any
definite conclusion as to how this affected Mr. Dudley's feelings
towards me, we reached the lichgate, where we found the rest of
the party awaiting us. We all separated: Diana took Betty, who
gazed at me mournfully, but was too loyal to her mother to say
anything; Hugh gave a series of triumphant jumps, which added pain
to Betty's already disappointed expression.

In church I found myself allotted to what we call the overflow
pew, which is at right angles to the family pews and in full view
of them. It is the children's favorite pew only, I imagine,
because they don't always sit there. Hugh sat very close to me,
and kept on giving little wriggles and gazing up at me, then at
Mr. Dudley, and snuggling closer to me as if to emphasize the
superiority of his position over that of Mr. Dudley.

"Hugh," I whispered, "you must behave."

"He didn't sit next you, after all," he whispered.

I say whispered, but must explain that Hugh's whisper is a very
far-reaching thing. He loves a victory. I hope that when he
grows up he will be a generous victor. He says he is going to be
a dangerous man; I can believe it.