"I don't know what a Puritan is, and I am sure I am not a saint?" said Amabel, gently. "I wish I were. But you know, aunt, if I think a thing wrong, I cannot do it, even to please you."
"And what right have you to think a thing wrong when it is done by your elders and betters, miss?"
"Sister Deborah!"
"I have seen my elders and betters on their knees for hours at a time before a piece of bread which they worshiped as God!" said Amabel with some spirit. "But you would not like to see me do that, aunt. Indeed you must please excuse us."
But Mrs. Deborah was not to be pacified. She scolded us in no measured terms, and finally bade us begone to our room since she was not good company enough for two such young saints. We betook ourselves to our little study, and girl like, had a good cry over our disgrace.
Then having relieved our spirits, I opened the harpsichord, and we began to sing out of Ravenscroft's Psalms, of which we found a book in our book-case. We had not been singing long, before Mrs. Chloe came in and seated herself, followed presently by Mrs. Deborah. We sung several psalms and two or three sacred pieces of Mr. Handel's for the ladies, and Mrs. Chloe professed herself much delighted with the music.
Mrs. Deborah did not say a great deal, but she bade us a kind good-night, and her regular—"I hope I see you well, nieces," was spoken in the morning with the same cordiality as ever.
We were not again asked to play cards on Sunday evening, and after a while it became a regular thing for us to entertain our aunts with sacred music at that time. Mrs. Deborah had a hasty temper naturally, which was not improved by a long course of absolute rule, but she had not one atom of malice or rancor in her disposition. She liked the music at first, because it gave pleasure to poor Mrs. Chloe, and afterward for its own sake, and she was never the stuff whereof persecutors are made.
