The sermon had commenced when Master Rupert walked into church, and took his seat in his uncle’s pew, with rather a sheepish air. As usual, after he got there he gaped about the church, put his head down as if composing himself to sleep; then jerked it up suddenly, turned round, fidgeted on his seat, and made everybody near him uncomfortable.
When the hymn was sung he turned his back to the minister, and looked up at the choir; a practice, by the by, which shows as much irreverence as bad breeding. When we sing we should feel as much devotion as when we pray. How can we do this when we stand gazing at the choir, instead of feeling the solemn words that we are repeating?
As soon as the benediction was over, Rupert caught his cap, and, leaning over to Alfred, said,
“By jingo! what a noble pair of horses John Strong drives! I have had such a capital ride!”
Alfred’s father took hold of his hand, and did not let it go until he got to the house; and Henry Penrose walked beside Rupert; so that he had no one to listen to his praises of John Strong’s driving, and John Strong’s horses, of which his mind was full.
Between the Sunday-school, church in the afternoon, and reading aloud to Alfred and Flora, from some interesting and profitable book, Rupert had no time for any conversation with Alfred; and nothing had been said to him about his conduct in the morning. He seemed, however, even more restless and tired of Sunday than usual. Mrs. Penrose searched the house for some book to interest him, but could find none that he would read.
CHAPTER X
SUNDAY EVENING—TALK WITH RUPERT.
Ye shall walk after the Lord your God, and