"It doesn't matter, really. Just the plain story, you know. I find myself the best way is to adopt a cheerful, conversational manner and keep them from asking questions. At that age they never ask the right ones. Stump you every time if you're not careful. Give them the facts. They'll understand them later."
"I don't understand them myself," objected Desire. But by this time the assistant's eye was quite distracted.
"So very good of you," he murmured, "if you will come this way—"
Desire went that way and presently found herself seated in the Sunday School room in a blazing bar of sunlight and facing a row of small Bainbridgers, surprisingly brisk and wide-awake considering the weather.
"We usually have our boys' and girls' classes separate," explained the assistant. "But this is a mixed class as you see."
Desire saw that the mixture consisted of a very round boy in a very stiff sailor suit.
"Now children, Mrs. Spence is going to tell you about Moses. Mrs. Spence is a newcomer. We must make her welcome and show her how well behaved we are."
"I'm not," volunteered an angel-faced child with an engaging smile.
"I got a lickin' on Friday," added the round boy, who as sole member of his sex felt that he must stand up for it.
The assistant shook a finger at them cheerfully and hurried away.