"Your mother is pretty funny, Gladys," Frances observed.
"Suppose you go with us to service this afternoon and hear the Christmas music; we can stop and ask your mother on the way," Mrs. Morrison suggested.
"Do come, Gladys, it is lovely to hear the choir boys, and perhaps they will sing 'O little town of Bethlehem,'" said Frances, adding, with a nod to Emma, who knew the story, "That is one of them."
Gladys did not decline the invitation, but she did not seem enthusiastic, and presently announced, "Emma says you ought to like to go to church better than to the circus, or anywhere, to any entertainment, but I don't."
"Oh!" exclaimed Frances, with a long-drawn breath, "I suppose you ought to, but— Mother, ought you to like church better than tableaux? Don't you remember those beautiful ones we saw in North Carolina?"
Emma again looked at Mrs. Morrison, confident in the strength of her position. "Oughtn't you?" she urged.
"Let me ask you a question. Which would you rather do, stay at home to-morrow afternoon, or go to see 'The Mistletoe Bough'?"
"'The Mistletoe Bough!'" cried three voices.
"Does that mean that you care more for tableaux than you do for your homes?"
"No, mother, of course not, only—" Frances hesitated.