him: and then it is so appropriate to Lent to be intimate with a
minister. He goes with me to church a great deal; for Mr. Potiphar, of
course, has no time for that, except on Sundays; and it is really
delightful to see such piety. He makes the responses in the most
musical manner; and when he kneels upon entering the pew, he is the
admiration of the whole church. He buries his face entirely in a cloud
of cambric pocket-handkerchief, with his initial embroidered at the
corner; and his hair is beautifully parted down behind, which is very
fortunate, as otherwise it would look so badly, when only half his
head showed. I feel _so_ good when I sit by his side; and when
the Doctor (as Mr. P. says) "blows up" those terrible sinners in
Babylon and the other Bible towns, I always find the Rev. Cream's eyes
fixed upon me, with so much sweet sadness, that I am very, very sorry
for the naughty people the Doctor talks about. Why did they do so, do
you suppose, dear Caroline? How thankful we ought to be that we live
now with so many churches, and such fine ones, and with such
gentlemanly ministers as Mr. Cheese. And how nicely it's arranged
that, after dancing and dining for two or three months constantly,
during which, of course, we can only go to church Sundays, there comes
a time for stopping, when we're tired out, and for going to church
every day, and (as Mr. P. says) "striking a balance;" and thinking
about being good, and all those things. We don't lose a great deal,
you know. It makes a variety, and we all see each other, just the
same, only we don't dance. I do think it would be better if we took
our lorgnettes with us, however, for it was only last Wednesday, at
nine o'clock prayers, that I saw Sheena Silke across the church in
their little pew at the corner, and I am sure that she had a new
bonnet on; and yet, though I looked at it all the time trying to find
out, prayers were fairly over before I discovered whether it was
really new, or only that old white one made over with a few new