But Mrs.Hankey had her innocent enjoyments, in spite of the sternness of her creed.

If she took light things seriously, she took serious things lightly; so she was not without her compensations.

For instance, a Sunday evening's discourse on future punishment and the like, with illustrations, was an unfailing source of pure and healthful pleasure to her; while a funeral sermon--when the chapel was hung with black, and the bereaved family sat in state in their new mourning, and the choir sang Vital Spark as an anthem--filled her soul with joy.

So when Mrs.Bateson commented with such unseemly cheerfulness upon Christopher's encouraging appearance, it was but consistent of Mrs.Hankey to shake her head.
"You can never tell," she replied--"never; often them that looks the best feels the worst; and many's the time I've seen folks look the very picture of health just before they was took with a mortal illness." "Ay, that's so," agreed the hostess; "but I think Master Christopher's looks are the right sort; such a nice colour as he's got, too!" "That comes from him being so fair complexioned--it's no sign of health," persisted Mrs.Hankey; "in fact, I mistrust those fair complexions, especially in lads of his age.

Why, he ought to be as brown as a berry, instead of pink and white like a girl." "It would look hideous to have a brown face with such yellow hair as mine," said Christopher, who naturally resented being compared to a girl.
"Master Christopher, don't call anything that the Lord has made hideous.
We must all be as He has formed us, however that may be," replied Mrs.
Hankey reprovingly; "and it is not our place to pass remarks upon what He has done for the best." "But the Lord didn't make him with a brown face and yellow hair; that's just the point," interrupted Elisabeth, who regarded the bullying of Christopher as her own prerogative, and allowed no one else to indulge in that sport unpunished.
"No, my love; that's true enough," Mrs.Bateson said soothingly: "a truer word than that never was spoken.