Maria and Matilda glanced at each other.
"She has?" cried the lady. "Yet you see she does not think as you do about it."
The sisters did not look into each other's eyes again. Their friend watched them both.
"I should like to know whom you have made such a promise to," she said coaxingly to Matilda. "Somebody that you love well enough to make you keep it. Won't you tell me? It is not your mother, you said. To whom did you make that promise, dear?"
Matilda hesitated and looked up into the lady's face again.
"I promised—the Lord Jesus," she said.
"Good patience! she's religious!" the lady exclaimed, with a change coming over her face; Matilda could not tell what it was, only it did not look like displeasure. But she was graver than before, and she pressed the cordial no more; and at parting she told Matilda she must certainly come and see her again, and she should always have a bunch of flowers to pay her. So the girls went home, saying nothing at all to each other by the way.
CHAPTER VII.
It was tea-time at home by the time they got there. All during the meal, Maria held forth upon the adventures of the afternoon, especially the last.