"You see she is only a feeble chick," observed Mr. Helstone.
"She looks young--younger than I.--How old are you?" she inquired in a manner that would have been patronizing if it had not been extremely solemn and simple.
"Eighteen years and six months."
"And I am twenty-one."
She said no more. She had now placed her flowers on the table, and was busied in arranging them.
"And St. Athanasius's Creed?" urged the rector. "You believe it all, don't you?"

"You see she is only a feeble chick," observed Mr. Helstone.
"She looks younger than I. How old are you?" she inquired in a manner that would have been patronizing if it had not been solemn and simple.
"Eighteen years and six months."
"And I am twenty-one." She said no more, but busied herself in arranging her flowers.
"And St. Athanasius's Creed?" urged the rector. "You believe it all, don't you?"
