No one seemed to hold the day any more sacred than the other six, except Aunt Jennie; but as Dexie came to note the difference in the Sunday life of her next-door neighbors, and mentally compared it with how the day was spent at home, she inwardly resented the feelings that would intrude themselves, for they pointed out the fact quite plainly that there was something needed in their lives at home which was engrafted in the household next door; and, though she scarcely knew what to do to remedy a difference she did not care to define even to herself, yet she silently resolved that an outward form at least, similar to what she saw next door, should yet be practised at home, for she could not bear the silent reproach any longer.

When Dexie opened her heart to Aunt Jennie about it, she found that the same thing had troubled her quiet auntie for a long time; so together they laid plans that eventually brought about a different Sunday life from that the family had hitherto known.  Yet the change began in a very commonplace way, too; for instead of enjoying the extra sleep that the family usually indulged in, they were aroused one Sunday morning by repeated calls to breakfast—­calls which were hard to resist when the opened doors let in such appetizing odors from the kitchen, where Aunt Jennie was superintending the morning meal.  And if their olfactories were closed to this appeal, their ears were not so easily shut to the sounds that Dexie was bringing forth from the piano, as hymns, anthems and psalms followed in succession, and made further sleep impossible.

“What has got into you all this morning?  Have you forgotten it is Sunday?” said Mr. Sherwood, appearing at last.  “How can anyone sleep with all this racket going on, Dexie?” he added, stepping into the parlor.  “What on earth made you rout us out of bed at this hour?  Why, it is not nine o’clock yet!”

“Oh! you slept long enough papa.  I am sure we don’t need more sleep on Sunday morning than we do any other day.  You’ll not be sorry you got up when once you have tasted some of the good things auntie has made for breakfast,” and she raised her mouth for a kiss, then led him to the table.

Gussie made her appearance in time to sit down with the rest, but she looked cross at Dexie for having disturbed her.

“This is the first Sunday morning we have all met at the breakfast table for months, I do believe,” said Mr. Sherwood, leaning back in his chair, as he finished the meal.  “But where are the papers this morning?  What! still in the office?  However am I going to pass the day without my papers?  Strange that no one thought of going for them last night.”

Someone had thought of it, but had purposely forgotten again, hoping that he might be induced to attend some place of worship in the morning, if for no better reason than to pass the time away.

The Gurneys were members of the Episcopal Church and attended at St. Paul’s.  Dexie had often accompanied them on Sundays, and had grown familiar with the service that was, in after-life, so dear to her; but, knowing that her father disliked that form of worship, she intended to persuade him to attend St. Matthew’s (Presbyterian), as she knew he had a great respect for the officiating clergyman.