Thus
it had become a daily custom that she should spend the time between
half past seven and nine in the company of the prisoner of darkness,
and she was beginning to look forward to it as the event of the day.
She scarcely expected to be sent for on Sunday evening, but Jumbo
came as usual with the invitation, and she was far from sorry to
quit a worm-eaten Baxter's _Saints' Rest_ which she had dutifully
borrowed from Mrs. Aylward.
"Well, my fair visitor," said the voice which had acquired a tone of
pleased anticipation, "what mental repast has your goodness provided?"
"It is Sunday, sir."
"Ah!" as if it had not occurred to him, and with some disappointment.
"I could say the Psalms by heart, sir, if you would like it, for it
is the 20th day of the month."
"Thank you. Your voice can make anything sweet."
Aurelia was shocked, and knew that Betty would be more so, but she
was too shy to do anything except to begin: "Praise thou the Lord,
O my soul."
It was a fortunate thing that it was a Psalm of such evident beauty,
for it fell less familiarly on his ear than her passages from the
poets. At the end he said: "Yes, that is true poetry. Praise fits
well with happy young lips. You have been to church?"
"No, sir, Mr. Greaves does not come to-day.
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