Sleep in Peace by Phyllis Bentley Page A

Gwen’s having these raw edges and considering them “smart”, and she liked to tease her sister about them—though this was dangerous, for Gwen grew irritable on the subject, and an irritable Gwen threw the whole house into gloom. (Ludo, oddly enough, could never see this raw edge joke, though he understood all the other jokes so quickly and well.) Once Gwen had retaliated by suggesting that the fur tail on Laura’s bonnet was a cat’s tail, just like Buller’s; but Mildred had come to the rescue, saying indignantly that the tail belonged to a much more valuable animal called a skunk. At this Laura was silent, bemused by too many diverse ideas. The tail was very like Buller’s, certainly. Evidently if it was like Buller’s, it was not right to wear it on a bonnet. She could not bear to think of Buller’s tail being removed. Perhaps skunks did not mind. How could a skunk be more valuable than Buller? However, it was time to go to Church. Grandmamma did not go to Church; she sang hymns instead, in her thin cracked voice, to herself beside her own fire. Papa and Gwen walked behind, Ludo and Laura in front; they all felt very clean and brushed and good, and quite able to hold their own with the other clean, brushed, good families who were neatly walking in the same direction.
    In Church one sat in order of age except that Laura, being so very young, was put between Gwen and Ludo. Laura liked Church. The rolling music, the glossy brown pews, the brass lectern winking in the sunlight, the white flowers on the altar, the crimson footstools—Laura had a specially tall footstool of herown that Papa had made for her, with a very large black button and two fine tabs like Buller’s ears. All those nice little boys in their clean surplices, and the clergyman with his booming voice, and the feeling of God looking down kindly but sternly on the congregation from above the roof, in a kind of surplice made of cloud, very powerful and benevolent and majestic. God could see into everybody’s heart, He knew just when Laura tried to be good and failed, and when she really meant to be naughty; He understood Ludo too, and valued him very highly. There was a delicious feeling of goodness in Church on Sunday morning, a feeling of starting again, of really going to be good this time. Often in Church Laura would catch Gwen’s eye and smile lovingly at her, and Gwen would smile back in the same way. Sometimes she actually smiled at Ludo! Then Laura was so happy that tears came into her eyes. Laura was proud of being able to sit through the sermon, and not have to go out before it, as the Vicar’s children did. She was also proud of knowing the tunes and singing, though she did not of course know the words. But alas, one Sunday when Laura was singing with particular gusto, she went out of tune, and her childish voice soared above everyone else’s in the church. Some people actually turned round and looked at her, but as everybody who did so, including Papa, smiled very kindly, Laura, though blushing with confusion, thought that perhaps her mistake did not matter very much. She was wrong, however; for when the Armisteads had returned home and were waiting for dinner in the dining-room, Gwen was very cross about it, and forbade Laura to make the family ridiculous again by singing in church when she didn’t know either tune or words. Then suddenly Ludo turned very red, and in a high excited voice cried out:
    â€œShe shall sing if she likes!”
    â€œLudovic!” said Gwen in a shocked voice. “Please don’t shout like that at your sister.”
    Papa, who was just coming in, heard this; looking angrily atLudo, he seemed to hesitate whether to scold him, but decided not to do so, perhaps because it was Sunday, perhaps because Grandmamma was just coming into the room. But of course Sunday dinner was quite spoiled that day, and it was surprising how many Sunday dinners were