“Prayers,” they exclaimed, and as they said the word a young housemaid put her face in at the door.

“Master Duke and Miss Pamela,” she said, “Nurse says I’m to take you down to prayers.  But you must come first to wash your hands and smooth your hair.”

A very correct little couple presented themselves a few minutes later at the dining-room door, and after the salute and the curtsey, and wishing Grandpapa and Grandmamma “a very good morning,” seated themselves one on each side of the old lady, while Grandpapa read from the prayer-book a few verses of the Bible, the Collect of last Sunday, and two or three prayers for the benefit of the whole family, including a row of neat, mostly elderly, servants near the door.  Duke and Pamela listened attentively, their hands crossed on their knees, their eyes fixed on Grandpapa—­no fidgetting or staring about or making signs to each other.  Such things would probably have been severely punished.

And then came what was almost the happiest part of the day for “us,”—­breakfast number two; that is, breakfast with Grandpapa and Grandmamma.  With the greatest interest they watched to see what was to be given them.  This morning there were no eggs, but there were some tempting little slices of toast, fresh butter, and a glass dish of honey, clear as amber, with which materials Grandmamma proceeded to fabricate two delicious sandwiches, having already filled the little cups with weak, but, this morning, sugarless tea.

“No need to put sugar when you are eating honey.  You would not taste it,” she explained.  “Now, then, is not that a nice little treat for my two good children?” and Duke and Pamela were eagerly drawing in their chairs when another question from Grandmamma suddenly reminded them of what they had for the time forgotten.  “You ate your breakfast nicely upstairs, I hope?  Did you finish all the bread and milk?”

Brother looked at sister and sister looked at brother.  Both grew rosier than usual, but Grandmamma, though fairly quick of hearing, was somewhat near-sighted.  Pamela touched Duke without the old lady seeing, and looked what he understood—­“Let us tell, Duke.”  But Duke would not allow himself to think he did understand.  The tea and the honey sandwiches were so tempting!

“The bowls were quite empty, Grandmamma,” he said.  And Grandmamma, who had wondered a little at their hesitation in answering, seemed relieved.  For, kind as she was, “rules were rules,” to Grandmamma’s thinking; and, though it would have pained her more than the children, she would certainly have thought it right to send them upstairs treatless had the answer been different.