II.

"Aunt Lavvy--I wish I knew what you thought about Jehovah?"

When Aunt Lavvy stayed with you Mamma made you promise not to ask her
about her opinions. But sometimes you forgot. Aunt Lavvy looked more than
ever as if she was by herself in a quiet empty room, thinking of
something that wasn't there. You couldn't help feeling that she knew
things. Mamma said she had always been the clever one, just as Aunt
Charlotte had always been the queer one; but Aunt Bella said she was no
better than an unbeliever, because she was a Unitarian at heart.

"Why Jehovah in particular?" Aunt Lavvy was like Uncle Victor; she
listened politely when you talked to her, as if you were saying something
interesting.

"Because he's the one you've got to believe in. Do you really think he is
so very good?"

"I don't think anything. I don't know anything, except that God is love."

"Jehovah wasn't."

"Jehovah--" Aunt Lavvy stopped herself. "I mustn't talk to you about
it--because I promised your mother I wouldn't."

It was very queer. Aunt Lavvy's opinions had something to do with
religion, yet Mamma said you mustn't talk about them.

"I promised, too. I shall have to confess and ask her to forgive me."