"And you told it because we were cross this afternoon, I know," said Louise wisely.
"Suppose Miss Brown could tell when we are bad just by looking at the door!" Carl suggested, laughing.
"It would be dreadful," said Bess soberly.
"But it isn't true about our door, is it?" Helen asked.
"Of course not, goosie," replied her brother.
"Put it the other way, and suppose that Miss Brown could tell when you are kind and unselfish, that would not be dreadful," said their uncle. "And I forgot to say," he added, "that the key in the story is warranted to work like magic anywhere. It was a favorite text of your grandfather's. When this house was built I was a little boy, hardly as old as Helen, but I remember distinctly the first time I went through it. I was very much delighted, and came running down the steps, calling, 'Oh, father, what a nice house this is!' and he replied, 'I am glad you like it, William. It is only a house now, but we are going to try to make it a home.' I don't think I quite understood what he meant till long afterwards, though he went on to explain that a home is a place where love, obedience, and helpfulness grow, and are stored up as the water is stored in Quarry Hill reservoir, to find its way out into the world after a while, carrying comfort and cheer.
"Your grandfather did all he could to make this house a real home while he lived, and now the responsibility rests upon you."
"I truly mean to remember the key, and try to be a helper," said Bess, finding and marking the text in her own Bible, at Uncle William's suggestion. "I like that part about the radiance of the magic door," she added.
"It is easy enough to talk about it, but it's not so easy to be good," said Carl with emphasis.
"We are not here to do easy things, and, as Bess says, we can all try," Uncle William replied, "and now we have had a sermon, let us have some music before I go."