The day before it had knocked at his door and found him in.
There was still Sunday-school to be endured, but he did not regard this as altogether odious.

It was not so smothering.

The atmosphere was less strained.

One's personality could come a bit to the front without incurring penalties, and one met one's own kind on a social plane--subject to discipline, it was true, but still mildly enjoyable.
It was his custom to linger here until the classes gathered, but to-day the Whipple pony cart was driven up by the Whipple stepmother and the girl with her hair cut off.

Apparently no one made these two go to church, but they had come to Sunday-school.