"Do you like butter?"
And gravely held a buttercup beneath his chin, he laughingly submitting to the test. The golden reflection of the flower being seen on his chin, she declared that he did like butter, and the triumphant tone in which she announced the discovery evidently enhanced his value in her eyes. Then she asked, Did she? and held up her face for the test, which Felix applied with becoming seriousness. The answer being satisfactory, they became more confidentially familiar.
"This is a churchyard," said the little maid.
"Yes."
"Where people are buried."
"Yes."
"Lily's mother is going to be buried here."
"Yes."
"I want to know if Lily's mother is shut up in a box, how can she be up there?"
Felix, seeing that he was in danger of being entangled in a theological disputation with an opponent who thirsted for facts, answered simply,