she has got a night's lodging. I'll run and ask her."

"No, no, she might not like it," whispered the more timid Cecile.

But just then Toby, who had been standing very quiet and motionless
behind Maurice, perceived a late, late autumn fly, sailing lazily by,
within reach of his nose. That fly was too much for Toby; he made a
snap at it, and the noise which ensued roused the woman's attention.

"Oh! my little Honies," she said, coming forward, "we don't allow
dogs in the church. Even a nice dog like that is against the rules.
I'm very sorry, my loves, but the dog must go out of church."

"Don't Jesus like dogs then?" asked Maurice.

"And please, ma'am," suddenly demanded Cecile, before the woman had
time to answer Maurice, "_is_ that Jesus the Guide playing the
beautiful music up there?"

"That, my dears! You shock me! That is only Mr. Ward the organist.
He's practicing for tomorrow. To-morrow's Sunday, you know. Why, you
_are_ a queer little pair."

"We're going on a pilgrimage," said Maurice. "We're going South; and
Cecile has been talking a great deal lately to Jesus the Guide; and
she asked Him just now to find us a woman with a kind face to give us
a night's lodging, and we both think you are quite lovely. Will you
give us a night's lodging, ma'am?"

"Will I? Hark to the baby! Well, I never! And are you two little