“We will go to church to-day,” Roma said to her little protégée, as they sat together at the breakfast table.
“To church? Oh, that will be good! I never was at church in all my life. Mamma used to go to early mass, sometimes, but she never took me,” Owlet exclaimed.
“You shall go now.”
“And may Ducky Darling go, too?” anxiously demanded Owlet. “I haven’t seen the dear thing to-day. She wasn’t in the garden with the chickens—she wasn’t anywhere. But may she go to church with us?”
“Dorcas has gone to Wheatlands with her father and mother and all the children, to spend the day there, with some of their relations,” replied Roma.
“Ah! That was the reason why I could not find her, the dear thing. Where is Wheatlands?” suddenly inquired Owlet.
“About three miles from this place.
“What is Wheatlands? Is it a city or a depot?”
“It is a large tobacco plantation owned by relations of mine, who are now in Europe.”
“Oh!”