"Well—if they looked round, when they were going up the hill, they lost all."
"They were turned into stone. And there were all sorts of noises in their ears, to make them look round."
"The only way to get to the top, was to stop their ears."
"Yes, Mr. Richmond; I know; I understand. But what golden bird and singing water are we going up hill after?"
"Something better. We want the 'Well done, good and faithful servant,'—do we not? And if we would have that, we must stop our ears against all sorts of voices that would turn aside our eyes from what is at the top of the hill."
"But Mr. Richmond, it is not wicked to wear mourning, is it?"
"No. I was thinking then of other things. But it is very unlike the spirit of religion, when a friend has gone home, to make a parade of gloom about it; very unlike the truth of Christ."
"Mr. Richmond, I am very glad; and now I know what is right, I am very much obliged to you. And Miss Redwood said your dinner would be ready in a quarter of an hour. I guess it is ready now."
Which was the fact; and Matilda ran home, in a different sort of gale now, and at luncheon was quite as light hearted as usual.