When Mrs. Morgan passed the visitor a glass dish of currant jelly, she smacked her lips, and glancing in her aunt's face with a smile, she burst out:
"I say, isn't this red stuff jolly good?"
"I'm glad you like it, my dear," was the kind reply.
Mr. Morgan pushed back his plate, saying in rather a petulant tone, "My appetite has gone."
"Oh, papa!" said Emily, "You've only eaten one biscuit."
When the tea had been removed, Emily carried the Bible and hymn books to her father, taking the opportunity, as she leaned over his shoulder, to whisper to him:
"I love you dearly, papa."
He glanced in her anxious face, nodded pleasantly, and then named the hymn they would sing.
The exercises which followed appeared to interest Milly intensely. She listened to the reading with open mouth, her keen gaze being fastened on her uncle till he closed the Bible.
During the singing, her expression softened, till the tears stood in her eyes. But after the first verse, she hummed an accompaniment, entirely ignoring the words, her voice, as they all acknowledged afterward, being as sweet and clear as a nightingale in his native woods.