"I shall not be at home to hear your catechism this evening, Lucy," said Mrs. Maxwell, as she left the dinner-table; "I am going to see a sick friend after church, as Miss Rosa can take my place at tea-time."
"Willingly," said Rosa, "and hear the catechism too," she added, internally.
CHAPTER X.
THE HAPPY SUNDAY EVENING.
Sunday afternoon passed away very rapidly to Lucy. She spent the time while her brother and sister were at church in reading a little book which Rosa had lent her.
As the children sat together in the twilight, after tea, Rosa said to Lucy, "We used to call you baby and pet at first: do you know when we began to call you Lucy?"
"Not till I was two months old, I've heard father say."
"Yes; I well remember the morning that you took your new name," continued Rosa. "It was a bright day in June. Dear mamma was so kind and cheerful then. I can see her now as she came in to breakfast, so slender and pale, and yet with such a calm, happy look on her face.
"'You must call the baby Lucy after to-day,' she said to me, as I kissed her that morning.
"'And why, dear mother?' I asked.