"Weel, they arena bad, and when McNab makes them, they are vera good. I shall put a few mushrooms in them to-day for your sake."
"Thank you!"
"And you can sing twice as much the morn. I'm sure it is a thanksgiving to listen to you."
Then the door closed, and Theodora closed the piano, put away her music, and went upstairs to dress for dinner. The thanksgiving was still in her heart, and she sang it with her soul joyfully, as she put on one of her most cheerful and beautiful costumes. It seemed natural and proper to do so, and without reasoning on the subject, she felt it to be in fit sympathy with her mood.
Even when the churchgoers came home drabbled and dripping, and as cross and gloomy as if they had been to hear a Gospel that was bad news, instead of good news, she did not feel its incongruity with her environment, until her mother-in-law said:
"You are very much over-dressed for the day, Dora."
"It is God's day, and I dressed in honor of the day."
"Then you should have gone to church to honor Him."
Before his wife could reply, Robert made a diversion: "What did you think of the sermon, mother?" he asked.
"It was a very strong sermon."