coffee and a roll."

"My dear, you cannot go without a proper
breakfast. Never mind the hour. What would
you like best?"

"You are so good, Ruth. I should like a
nice breakfast--a breast of chicken and mushrooms,
and some hot muffins and marmalade
would do. How comfortable you look here!
Father, you are buried in newspapers. Is
anyone going to church?"

Ruth ordered the desired breakfast and Mr.
Rawdon took out his watch--"I am afraid
you have delayed us too long this morning,
Ethel."

"Am I to be the scapegoat? Now, I do not
believe anyone wanted to go to church. Ruth
had her book, you, the newspapers. It is warm
and pleasant here, it is cold and windy outside.
I know what confession would be made,
if honesty were the fashion."

"Well, my little girl, honesty is the fashion
in this house. I believe in going to church.
Religion is the Mother of Duty, and we should
all make a sad mess of life without duty. Is
not that so, Ruth?"