One listener at least was not resentful because the sermon was neither wise nor great, for she had so many things to think of; but while she was sometimes lost in her own thoughts, Nan stole a look at the thinly filled galleries now and then, and at one time was pleased with the sight of the red-cheeked cherubs which seemed to have been caught like clumsy insects and pinned as a sort of tawdry decoration above the tablets where the Apostle’s Creed and the Ten Commandments were printed in faded gilt letters.  The letter s was made long in these copies and the capitals were of an almost forgotten pattern, and after Nan had discovered her grandfather’s name in the prayer-book she held, and had tried again to listen to the discourse, she smiled at the discovery of a familiar face in one of the wall pews.  It somehow gave her a feeling of security as being a link with her past experiences, and she looked eagerly again and again until this old acquaintance, who also was a stranger and a guest in Dunport, happened to direct a careless glance toward her, and a somewhat dull and gloomy expression was changed for surprised and curious recognition.  When church was over at last Miss Prince seemed to have a great deal to say to her neighbor in the next pew, and Nan stood in her place waiting until her aunt was ready.  More than one person had lingered to make sure of a distinct impression of the interesting stranger who had made one of the morning congregation, and Nan smiled suddenly as she thought that it might seem proper that she and her aunt should walk down the aisle together as if they had been married, or as if the ceremony were finished which she had anticipated as they came in.  And Miss Prince did make an admirable exit from the church, mustering all her self-possession and taking stately steps at her niece’s side, while she sometimes politely greeted her acquaintances.  There were flickering spots of color in her cheeks when they were again in the sun-shiny street.

“It is really the first day this summer when I have needed my parasol,” said Aunt Nancy, as she unfurled the carefully preserved article of her wardrobe and held it primly aloft.  “I am so sorry that our rector was absent this morning.  I suppose that you have attended an Episcopal church sometimes; I am glad that you seem to be familiar with the service;” to which Nancy replied that she had been confirmed while she was first at boarding-school, and this seemed to give her aunt great satisfaction.  “Very natural and proper, my dear,” she said.  “It is one thing I have always wished when I thought of you at serious moments.  But I was persuaded that you were far from such influences, and that there would be nothing in your surroundings to encourage your inherited love of the church.”

“I have always liked it best,” said Nan, who seemed all at once to grow taller.  “But I think one should care more about being a good woman than a good Episcopalian, Aunt Nancy.”