But Page had taken a prayer book from the rack, and kneeling upon a hassock was repeating the Litany to herself.

It annoyed Aunt Wess’. Excited, aroused, the little old lady was never more in need of a listener. Would Page never be through?

“And Laura’s new frock,” she whispered, vaguely. “It’s going to be ruined.”

Page, her lips forming the words, “Good Lord deliver us,” fixed her aunt with a reproving glance. To pass the time Aunt Wess’ began counting the pews, missing a number here and there, confusing herself, always obliged to begin over again. From the direction of the vestry room came the sound of a closing door. Then all fell silent again. Even the shuffling of the janitor ceased for an instant.