'Let her go on,' cried uncle Bryan.
The old stern look was in his face, and his voice was very harsh. I was the more unhappy, because I alone held the key of the situation. Jessie repeated the question, addressing herself to uncle Bryan.
'Is it not good to go to church?'
'I do not say that,' was his reply.
'But I want you to say one way or the other. It must be either good or bad. You will come with us!'
'I will not come with you.'
The high tone in which he spoke put a stop to the discussion, and we finished the breakfast in the midst of an unhappy silence. Indeed, we all seemed too frightened to speak. At the proper time my mother and I were ready for church, and were waiting downstairs for Jessie, whom my mother had left in their room dressing. But Jessie was somewhat more dilatory than usual. My mother went to the stairs, and softly called out,
'Now, my child, be quick, or we shall be late!'
It was the first time I had ever heard my mother call Jessie her child, and I pressed her hand fondly for it. She returned the pressure, almost convulsively, and presently Jessie came slowly downstairs. She was dressed with unusual care in a pretty new soft dress, concerning the making of which there had been great excitement; but her head was uncovered.
'Get on your hat quickly, my dear,' said my mother; 'we shall have to walk fast.'