Then the business of the afternoon began, and Helena sat and listened
to it. It was a scene which had repeated itself for two generations in
Old Chester; the fathers and mothers of these little people had sat on
these same narrow benches without backs, and looked at the blackboard
where Dr. Lavendar wrote out the divisions of the Collect, and then
looked at the sideboard, where stood a dish of apples and another of
jumbles. They, too, had said their catechism, announcing, in singsong
chorus that they heartily thanked their Heavenly Father that He had
called them to this state of salvation; and Dr. Lavendar had asked one
or another of them, as he now asked their children, "What meanest thou
by this word Sacrament?" "What is the inward and spiritual grace?"
That afternoon, when he swooped down on David, Helen squeezed her
hands together with anxiety; did he know what was the inward and
spiritual grace? Could he say it? She held her breath until he had
sailed triumphantly through: "A death unto sin, and a new birth unto righteousness," and so
on. When he had finished, she looked proudly at Dr. Lavendar, who, to
her astonishment, did not bestow a single word of praise!
"And yet," said Helena to herself, "he said it better than any of
them, and he is the youngest!--David said it very well, didn't he?"
she ventured, in a whisper.
Dr. Lavendar made no answer, but opened a book; on which there was a
cheerful shuffling as the children jostled each other in their efforts
to kneel down in the space between the benches; when all was still,
Dr. Lavendar repeated the Collect. Helena dropped her face in her
hands, and listened: "Grant, we beseech Thee, merciful Lord, to Thy faithful people
pardon and peace, that they may be cleansed from all their sins, and
serve Thee with a quiet mind; through Jesus Christ our Lord."
"Amen!" said the children, joyfully; and, scrambling to their
feet, looked politely at the sideboard. David, who played host on
these occasions, made haste to poke the apples at Mrs. Richie, who
could not help whispering to him to pull his collar straight; and she
even pushed his hair back a little from his forehead. The sense of
possession came over her like a wave, and with it a pang of terror
that made her lips dry; at that moment she knew the taste of fear in
her mouth. When Dr. Lavendar spoke to her, she was unable to reply.
"Well, now, Mrs. Richie," he said, "I expect these little people can
eat their apples without us; can't you, chickabiddies?"