'Do you never go to church?
'Never.'
'Why?'
'That is my affair.' The corners of his lips began to twitch.
'Is it not good to go to church?' she asked, still in a gentle tone, her colour beginning to rise. I noted with consternation these familiar signs of the coming battle. The shock was the more bitter because, to all outward appearance, everything had been fair between them until this moment. Only the night before we had stopped up half an hour later than usual, because the time was passing very pleasantly to all of us.
'My dear,' said my mother, with a sweet smile, taking Jessie's hand in hers; 'my dear, you forget!'
'Forget what, mother?' asked Jessie; she sometimes addressed my mother thus. 'Am I doing anything wrong?'
Even I could not help acknowledging to myself that Jessie, by a literal acceptation of my mother's words, was wilfully misinterpreting the nature and intent of her remonstrance; but I found justification for her.
'Uncle Bryan is the best judge,' said my mother.
'I know he is,' said Jessie.