“Well, papa, since the time will seem long to you with nothing particular to do, why not come with Gussie and I to hear Dr. Grant?  They have a fine choir at St. Matthew’s; so we will be sure to enjoy either the sermon or the singing, if not both.”

“Oh, I’m not going out this morning, Dexie, so speak for yourself,” said Gussie.  “It is a horrid bother to dress up so early in the day.  I have a nice book to read, so, if you want to go out, you can go with the Gurneys, as usual.”

“But I would rather go some place with papa,” said Dexie; “and it will be nicer to make a family party of it.  Besides, I want to hear what the new singer is like, and of course I can’t go alone.  You remember Cora Beverly was talking about her, and says she has the sweetest voice she ever heard.  You will come with us, won’t you, papa?” she asked, coaxingly, as she went behind his chair and stroked his hair.

“Well, I’ll see, by and by,” Mr. Sherwood replied.  “I may go with you this evening, though.”

“Now, papa, what will prevent you from coming this morning?  I do think you will be most unkind if you refuse, for I have set my heart on hearing that singer.  Now, do say ‘yes,’ papa.”

“Well, you little torment, yes, then!  Now, leave my hair alone, or you’ll have my head as bald as the back of my hand,” holding her away at arm’s-length.

Dexie bent over and gave him a final kiss; then, turning to Gussie, said: 

“Did you see how nicely I have done up your frills and laces, Gussie?  That pretty cream lace will look lovely with your new dress, if you frill it around the neck.”

“New dress, indeed!  Old made over thing, you’d better call it!” was the scornful answer.

“Well, it is too bad that it was not made up to suit you at first.  Now that it has been altered, it looks quite stylish, and becomes you splendidly, and this is just the day to wear your new hat.”

This bit of flattery had the desired effect.  Gussie decided that it really was too fine to stay indoors, so she rose from the table to begin her preparations for church.

“Seems to me you have taken to psalm-singing very suddenly,” said Gussie, as Dexie accompanied her preparations with some song of David that was unfamiliar to Gussie’s ears.

“Oh, no! they sing psalms every Sunday at the Episcopal Church,” and Dexie hummed away with a light heart.

“But not to such tunes as that!  They go hopping along on one note, like a hen with a sore foot, and then end up altogether differently from what you expect.  Chanting is not singing, and I think it sounds ridiculous.”