"You are a funny boy!" said Inez, staring at him. "Nobody in our house talks about God. Go on, say some more."
"Well, you know," said Noel eagerly, "I'm a Chris'mas child, specially born on the same day as Jesus Christ. Chris and Diana don't understand, so God loves me and I love Him, and I want Him to have lovely flowers in His garden, because He likes them. He made them, you know, so of course He does."
"I s'pose," said Inez, "He made me, but God doesn't like me. I'm too wicked."
"Are you?" said Noel, looking at her curiously. "What kind of wickedness do you do?"
"Well, yesterday I got the garden hose and I turned it on into Julia's bedroom window. It's rather low down, and she was doing her hair and trying on ear-rings, waiting for the gardener to come along and talk to her. She was in such a rage; her face was streaming with water, and then I had to hide from her till she forgot it a bit, and I hid in the best spare-room bed, and then they made a fuss about that."
"I think that's rather fun," said Noel, his eyes sparkling. "I wonder if we have got a hose. It squirts water, doesn't it? We used to have one in India. I should like to squirt my Chris'mas tree. He'd like it, I'm sure."
"I like to squirt people who don't like it," said Inez; "that's wicked, they say. But I don't think I care about God. I hate saying my prayers. I never know what it means, and it's so dull. And church is awfully dull."
"Oh!" gasped Noel; "I think it's beautiful! It belongs to God. He comes there, you know, every Sunday, and in the week besides. I almost fink I see Him sometimes. Mums says that God likes everybody, and calls them to get near Him. He doesn't like them far away."
"But God lives millions and billions of miles away up at the back of the stars," said Inez in a thoughtful tone.
"Oh, but He doesn't stay there," said Noel, shaking his head gravely. "Oh dear, no! He's always close to us. Why, I really do believe He's listening to us now."