ing, for convenience, his hat in his teeth, while he pulled on his overcoat. His cheeks were flushed and his dark eyes shone with the excitement of the music, but his face was unusually sober.
“Well, Rob?”
“Oh, cousin Bess, have you heard about Fred?”
“What is it, my dear? I hope all is going well with him. But wait a moment; I must speak to Mrs. Read. Then I’ll come and hear all about it.”
Rob fidgeted about the door of the cosy little church until his cousin joined him. To go home from evening service without her, would have been to deprive Rob of one of his weekly pleasures. Cousin Bess was his confidante, adviser, and oracle; and to-night, seeing the boy was really anxious to talk with her, she hurried her interview with the garrulous mother of eleven children, and, leaving half told the tale of Tommy’s mumps and Sallie’s teeth, she turned to the door, and, with Rob at her side, stepped out into the cold November starlight. The boy shivered a little.
