'I am not going to church,' said Jessie, in a low tone, in which I--and I alone, I believe--detected a tremor.
'Jessie!' cried my mother, in a tone of suffering; 'Jessie, my dear child!'
She stepped to Jessie's side, trembling from agitation. Jessie stood quite quietly by the table, and repeated, in a tone which she strove in vain to make steady,
'I am not going to church this morning.'
Uncle Bryan was in the room, but spoke not a word.
'Are you not well, my dear?' asked my mother.
'I am quite well.'
'Then why will you not come with us?'
'I am not sure that it is right to go to church.'
'My dear, if I tell you that it is'