It’s strange Dad didn’t ever say something to us about it. He knew death was in the world and everybody was coming to it sometime or other. He always tried to prepare us for things he thought were ahead for us, but I don’t remember that he ever said anything about death.”

“Mother taught us to pray, when we were little. At least she taught me to,” said Jennifer. “She had more time when I was little, not so many engagements evenings and things. But I remember saying, ‘Now I lay me,’ when I could just talk a little.”

“Yeah, I remember that, too. She used to come in at night, even when she was going somewhere for the evening, and sit by my crib and make me say my prayer, and when I was bad and wouldn’t, she’d tell me God wouldn’t bless me if I didn’t pray to Him. Not that I cared just then whether He blessed me or not, of course, but I did care when Mother got that hurt look in her eyes, and then for a long time afterwards I used to think of God with that hurt look in His eyes, too, and somehow I thought better of God, I guess, than I would if Mother hadn’t heard me say my prayers.”

“Yes,” said Jennifer, “I guess Mother believed in God all right. And Dad, too. I’m sure they did!”

“I s’pose they did. Only they were busy, and they didn’t really think things were going to end this way. But, Jen, I guess you and I’ve got to get at it and give these kids something more to go on than we had. Something solid, I mean, that they can bank on if there is anything. It’s awful desolate when things happen if you don’t have anything.”

“It certainly is,” said Jennifer sorrowfully. “Only I don’t just know what we’ll tell them. I used to go to church sometimes, but I don’t remember that I ever heard anything there that would help. Perhaps I didn’t listen. I haven’t gone much since I went to college. They didn’t think it was sort of mid-Victorian to go to church. But I don’t know that it was so bad to be Victorian. I think they must have been pretty nice people back in those days when Queen Victoria was living. They didn’t seem to drink so much, nor get mushy and silly.”

“You’ve said it! But say, I suppose we could teach the kids whatever it was that Dad and Mother taught us, even if we don’t know much about it. And maybe we’ll come on something else to help if we keep our eyes open. But, Jen, there’s one thing that bothers me. Maybe I oughtn’t to say anything. Maybe it’s none of my business. Maybe you’ll get mad at me, but I don’t mean any harm. Only, if we’re in this thing together and we’re going to do right by these kids, we’ve got to keep straight ourselves, haven’t we? We can’t just go on and do as we please and expect them to keep straight without any help, and with us doing as other people do, can we? We’ve got to watch our step and not get into any mess we don’t want them to get into, haven’t we?”

“Why, of course,” said Jennifer, looking over at him wonderingly, though she could see only the merest outline of his face against the darkness. “Why did you think that would make me cross? What’s on your mind, Jerry?”

“Well, if you insist, I’ll tell you,” said the boy hesitantly. “It’s that chump, Peter Willis! He’s no fit playmate for you, Jen, and I’m telling ya! He’s rotten, and that’s all there is about it.