 Chapter 15 What made her different I have heard a good deal about your sister that has interested me. Do you like to talk of her? This was the question which Gracie Dennis asked of young Reed as he stood beside her at the piano. She had been playing and had come to the music alcove for the purpose of turning her music, but now she was touching sweet chords here and there aimlessly and waiting for his answer. At the further end of the parlor Mrs. Roberts was entertaining a collar, but the distance between them was so great that, in effect, the young people were alone. I like nothing better than to talk of her, Mr. Reed said with animation, but I don't know so much about her as I wish I did. She went away when I was quite young. I used to say she died, but since I have awakened to see her cherished plans being carried on all around me, I cannot think of her as dead. That is what I want to talk to you about, her work or her plans for work. What made her so different from other people, Mr. Reed? Wasn't she different? The young man regarded the question thoughtfully before answering. Not from all the people, he said at last, but certainly very different from some. I used to think that all Christians were like her, of course. Then, when I saw my mistake, I went to the other extreme and thought there were none like her on earth. I have discovered that the medium position is the correct one. But what I want to know is what made her different? It wasn't her age. Mrs. Roberts thinks she was young? She was hardly nineteen when she died. Oh no, it wasn't age. She told me that she used to be very different. She was a Christian from childhood, but she said that she was ashamed to claim the name. There was nothing Christlike about her. Still, she was a member of the church. As I remember her and as I look at other people, my judgment is that, in her early Christian life, she was much like most of the Christians with whom you and I are familiar. And what made her different? Was it, that is, do you think it was because she was to die so soon that she had a special experience? Not at all, he said promptly. It was before she realized anything about her condition that the great change took place in her. My brother-in-law says that she supposed herself to be in perfect health at the time when she was most marked in her Christian life. Ah, but you don't understand. I mean more than that. It is difficult to tell what I mean. I mean, but you know, of course, that knew that she was soon to go to heaven. I thought, perhaps, he gave her a special experience on that account. No, oh no, he said, speaking with great earnestness. Esther was particularly anxious that no one should suppose her experience exceptional. Little fellow, though I was, it seemed to be her desire that I should fully understand this. Don't let anybody think that because you are a little boy, you must be a sort of half-way Christian, she used to say, and her eyes would glow with feeling. I tried that way for years, she said, and I want you to understand that it is not only sinful, but there is not a particle of happiness to be gotten out of it, not a particle, and I would give almost nothing for what such a Christian can accomplish. The harm one does more than overbalances all effort for Christ. I think perhaps she felt more deeply on that than on almost any subject, and it was because she thought she had wasted so many years. Then do you think that there is, or rather that there should be, no difference in Christians, have all the same work to do? Not that quite, of course, or I don't know either, isn't it all different forms of the master's work. The children of the home may have each a different task, but each is needed to make the home what it should be, and each worker needs the same spirit of love and unselfishness to enable him to do his part. It isn't a perfect illustration, Miss Dennis. I am not skillful in that direction, but I know what I mean, and that is a comfort. And I know what you mean, Gracie said, not joining in his laugh, but I am not sure that I believe it. Why, Mr. Reed, that would make a very solemn thing of living. Well, did you suppose it was other than solemn? I am sure it makes a triumphant thing of it, too, and without it we are only a lot of wax figures dancing to pass the time away. But don't you really think that people have a right to have any nice times? Miss Dennis, did you ever see a person who had nicer times than your friend, Mrs. Roberts? Well, Flossie is peculiar. Her tastes all seem to lie in this direction, though once they did not, I admit. Papa used to think that she had no talent for anything but dancing. Something changed Flossie's entire character. No one who knew her two years ago could possibly deny that. She will serve as an illustration, then, to explain my meaning. I believe, Miss Dennis, that religion should have sufficient power over us to change all our tastes and plans in life, fitting them to the Savior's use. But what should such a rule as that do with most of the Christians of your acquaintance? Ah, I am old and experienced enough to warn you not to make shipwreck of your happiness on that shoal. I hovered around it and vexed my soul over the whole bewildering question until I suddenly discovered that I was held absolutely responsible only for my own soul and that the Lord would look after his own. For a time there was no answer to this. Gracie let her fingers wander with apparent aimlessness over the keys, drying out soft, sweet strains. Suddenly she said, What do you expect Flossie will accomplish with that last scheme of hers? I ought to beg her pardon for the familiar name, but I have known her ever since I was a child. Don't you think her attempts for those boys rather hopeless? Instantly the young man's eyes filled with tears, and when he spoke his voice indicated deep emotion. I can hardly tell you how I feel about those boys. I have been anxious for them so long and felt so hopeless. Do you remember how Elijah sat under a juniper tree, discouraged, and said that he was the only one who had not bowed the knee to bail, and the Lord told him he was mistaken that there were five thousand others? It sounds ridiculously egotistical, but I have felt at time something like that, as though I was the only one who cared whether the poor fellows went to destruction or not. But since I have met Mrs. Roberts and seen how intense she is and single-hearted, and since through her I have met Dr. Everett and seen how they are trying to work at the same problem, and since I have come to know how Mr. Roberts is at work all the time for young men, and above all since that wonderful evening here last Monday, when I saw how two gifted ladies understood the art of turning their accomplishments to account in order to take those poor fellows captive for Christ, I discovered that there were ways of solving this problem about which I had known nothing and people to carry it through. It was simply glorious in you to give those fellows such music as you did, and to accomplish by it what you did. My life has been narrow, Miss Dennis. I never saw the piano used for Christ before. Gracie looked down at the keys, her face aglow. It was a new experience, this being classed among the Christian workers of the world, making her music for other purposes than to amuse the gay friends who chance to gather around her. She made the keys speak loudly for a few minutes, then softening them said, You must not class me with flassy, Mr. Reed. I only did what she wanted done. I am not in the least like her, unselfish and gentle and all that. But his reply, spoken low, was pleasant to her ears. By their fruits you shall know them. He evidently looked upon her as a worker. She could not help feeling that it was pleasant to be so classed. What an intense young man he was, not in the least like those with whom she had hitherto been most familiar. There was another voice in the front parlor, a strong vigorous voice that carried a sense of power with it. Ah, said Reed, his eyes bright, his face eager. That is Dr. Everett. Just study him if you want another type of the sort of Christian about whom we have been talking, the grandest man. Gracie, shielded by the distance, turned on her stool and studied him. Certainly he did not look much as though he were appointed for early death, what a splendid physique it was. And how thoroughly wide awake and interested he was in the subject under discussion. Bits of the talk floated back to the two with the piano. Oh, he is young, Dr. Everett was saying. I hope for returned vigour in time. But there must be long weeks of patience before he will be ready for his old employment. Do you know of whom he is speaking? Gracie asked. I fancy it is that Kalkin's boy, the one with the broken limb. He is deeply interested in the poor fellow, and is trying to play an employment of some less wearing sort for him, I believe. Dr. Everett is always intensely interested in somebody. Is it always the very poor? Alfred laughed. Not always. I know several quite well-to-do fellows in whom he keeps a careful oversight. But he is grandly interested in the poor. He is taking rank as one of the most successful physicians in the city. And, of course, he is pressed for time. Yet he is so continually at the call of the poor that people begin to speak of him as the poor man's doctor. He told me he was proud of that title. At this point the musicians were appealed to to come to the front parlor, and Gracie had opportunity for a nearer study of the man whom she could not help but admire. He was not likely to suffer from a nearer view, at least not while Gracie was in the mood that then possessed her. He greeted her cordially, and at once brought her into the conversation by appealing to her for a decision, seeming to take it for granted that she was of the same spirit with himself. This young lady was taking lessons of life that were designed to be helpful to her if she would but let them. A thoroughly well educated and cultured gentleman, well-fitted to take high rank in society, not in the ministry, and yet thoroughly absorbed in what she had hitherto almost unconsciously set down as minister's work, was a mystery to her. Moreover for the second time that evening she felt a curious sense of satisfaction in being classed among the energetic workers of the world. The pretty school girl who had lived all her young life in a neighborhood where she was Gracie Dennis, looked up to, indeed, by her set, and having a decided influence of her own, yet felt it to be a novel experience to hear herself addressed in a clear, firm voice after this manner. Miss Dennis, what means would you advise for interesting accompany of young girls in reading, regularly, books which would be of use to them? Of course I speak of a class of girls who have done no reading of any account here too for, and who have no knowledge in the matter. It is something about which I have not thought at all, said Gracie, her pretty face all in a flush. But I should suppose the way would be to take one girl at a time and study her to find out what would be likely to interest and help her, and also to get such an influence over her that she would read what I wanted her to. First catch your hair, eh? Good, said the doctor, with an approving glance toward Mrs. Roberts. The longer I live the more convinced am I that individual effort is what accomplishes the great things in this world. There was more talk about this and kindred matters, and Gracie found herself drawn out, and her interest excited on themes about which she had supposed she knew nothing. Then occurred an interruption, a ringing of the doorbell. For Miss Dennis, said the messenger, but she handed the card to Mrs. Roberts. There was just a moment of hesitation while that lady apparently studied the name, then she said composedly, This is Professor Ellis Gracie, do you wish to receive him this evening? Since I have known Mrs. Roberts well, I have studied her innocently sincere manner, with not a little curiosity as to the probable effect on the world, suppose it were possible for others to adopt her method. The actual practical effect with her is that she succeeds often in wisely deceiving while intending to be perfectly sincere. For instance, her question to Gracie after a moment of hesitation, during which she asked herself, What ought I to do? and immediately answered herself, There is nothing for me to do but to be perfectly straightforward. Her question was intended to say to Gracie, I trust you, what your father has directed you to do I feel sure you will obey. But it said different things from that to Gracie. Ever since she had been told that she might make her old acquaintance flossy a visit, this highly strong young lady had been suspicious that this was a device of her step mother to get pleasantly rid of her for a few weeks. She surmised that a very carefully elaborate account of her sins had been written out by this same stepmother for the benefit of her young hostess, and that special directions had been given regarding her from the wolf Professor Ellis. She would have spoiled the entire scheme by hodlily refusing to leave home had not the innocent delight of a young girl over the thought of visiting a beautiful strange city gotten the better of her pride. The gently put question of her hostess disarmed a whole nest of suspicions. It was hardly possible that it had been hinted to flossy that her guest might attempt to elope with this man, else she would not with serene face be asking whether it was her wish to receive him. If you please, she made haste to answer, her cheeks glowing the while, and Mrs. Roberts gave instant direction that the gentleman be shown to the parlor. There were several new lessons set for Miss Gracie Dennis to learn that evening. One was that Professor Ellis, with his faultless dress and excessive blightness, his finished bows and smiles that would have done credit to any ballroom in the land, his accurate knowledge of all the printed rules of etiquette, yet in Mrs. Roberts parlor contrasted with Dr. Everett and even with young Reed the dry goods clerk appeared at a disadvantage. She was slow in learning the lesson. On that first evening she simply stared at it in bewilderment. What did it mean? There was an attempt to draw the Professor into the circle to continue the conversation that had been so animated and interesting before his entrance. The effect was much like that produced in striking a discordant note in a hitherto faultless piece of music. Young men out of business needing help, needing an encouraging word, an outstretched hand. Professor Ellis had words and hands, but he might have been without either for all the help they gave him in responding to efforts like these. Books to help uplift the young, to give them high ideas of life, to enthuse them with desires to live for a purpose. Truly he could only stare blankly at the suggestion. What did he know of books written for such purposes? Yet Gracie had supposed him to be literary in his tastes and pursuits. Certainly he read French? Yes, French novels. He was quite familiar with some of such a character that, had Gracie been a good French scholar and ever likely to come in contact with a copy of them, he would not have dared to mention their names in her presence. More than once of late had the stepmother wished that her young daughter understood the language well enough to be aware that the man whom she admired used frequently smooth-sounding French oaths. But alas for Gracie, when he had so poisoned her mother's influence over this dangerously pretty girl, that she would have believed his word at any time rather than that mother's. While he read other than French novels, Charles Reid, for instance, and some of the more recent authors fashionable in certain circles, it is true that Gracie was not acquainted with them, that her father would not allow a copy of their books to come freely into his home, and Gracie was much too honorable to read them in private. But it was also true that while professing to admire this trait in her, as charming in a young daughter, the professor had also pityingly and gently told this young daughter that these things were her father's concessions to the narrow age and trampled profession to which he belonged, that the fact was, free thought was discouraged, because there was that in every church which would not bear its light, that her wise father was one of a hundred in recognizing this and trying to shield her while she was young. You are also to remember that she was young and therefore forgive her that she did not detect the contradictory sophistry in the professor's words. He really understood how to sugarcoat poison as well as any man of his stamp could. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 of Esther Read Yet Speaking But the question which would keep forcing itself on Gracie Dennis was this. If he really knows of nice books full of the beautiful and the ennobling that would enlighten the race, as he has often told me, why doesn't he mention some of them now? There is no minister here, trampled by long years of narrowing education. How does he know but that these people are as advanced in their ideas as he is himself? I do not mean that she was conscious of thinking these thoughts, but that they hovered on the edge, as it were, of her mind, making her feel ill at ease. Dr. Everett, on his part, seemed courteously bent on securing an expression of the professor's opinion about matters of which he either could not or would not talk. When at last the disturbed gentleman resolved to violate what Gracie was sure was a law of good breeding and address her in French, what with her embarrassment lest others should understand, and her own marked ignorance of the language, she found great difficulty in making a free translation. Upon my word I wish you understood French or some other tongue so that we could escape from this boredom. Does the poor little prisoner have much of this to endure? Can not we escape to the music room and talk things over? Gracie cast a frightened glance about her to see if there were others who understood better than herself this sentence, which, for ought she knew, might contain something startling. But Alfred was busily engaged in looking up the name of a book which he had vainly tried to recall, and Dr. Everett was apparently serenely oblivious to any language but his mother tongue. Very soon after this Gracie managed to escape with her collar to the music alcove, thus much of the French she had understood, and at least Professor Ellis could play, which fact she resolved that the people in the front parlor should speedily understand. Ah, but he could play, and herein lay one of his strong fascinations for the music-loving girl. For a time the most ravishing strains rolled through the parlor, hushing into wrapped attention the group gathered there, who had just been reinforced by the coming of Mr. Roberts. By degrees the strains grew fainter and fainter, and at last ceased altogether, as the professor, still on the music stool, bent over Gracie seated in a low chair, and apparently found fluent speech at last. Mrs. Roberts, meantime, was ill at ease. What would Dr. Dennis and Marion say? Could they have a peep at this moment into her back parlor? Was she being faithful to her trust? Yet what was there she could do? She tried to sustain her part in the conversation, but her troubled gaze constantly wandering elsewhere betrayed her. Dr. Everett's keen eyes were upon her. Are you particularly interested in that man? he asked abruptly. Mrs. Roberts smiled faintly. I am particularly interested in that girl, she said. How do you like her present companionship? Not at all, she answered quickly, whereupon Mr. Roberts began to question. May I know, doctor, whether you have any other reason than that of intuition for asking the question? Possibly not, the doctor said guardedly. It may be a case of mistaken identity. Mrs. Roberts, would you like to have me investigate something that may be to his disadvantage? Mrs. Roberts had a prompt answer ready. There are reasons why it is especially important that such an investigation should be made and reported to me. May I commission you? The doctor bowed, and the subject of Professor Ellis was immediately dropped. During the following week certain innovations took place in Mrs. Roberts' well-ordered household. At the end of the conservatory was a long, bright, and hitherto unfurnished room. It had been designed as a sort of second conservatory whenever the beauties of that department should overgrow their present bounds, but meantime other plants had taken root and blossomed in the mistress' heart. Early in this week the unused room had been opened and cleaned, then began to arrive packages of various shapes and sizes, a roll of carpeting and two young men from the carpet store, and there followed soon after the sound of hammering. Furniture wagons halted before the door, leaving their burdens. Men and women flitted to and fro, busy and important. It was Saturday night before Mr. Roberts and his young clerk were invited in to admire and criticize the new room. Mr. Roberts, at least, was prepared to appreciate its transformation. The floor was covered with a heavy carpet in lovely shades of mossy green, and easy chairs and couches intense that either matched or made delightful contrasts with the carpet abounded. The walls were hung with pictures and charts and maps. A study table occupied the center of the room, one of those charming tables full of mysterious drawers and unexpected corners. Paper and pens and inks in various colors were disposed about this table in delightful profusion. Other tables, plenty of them, small and neat, each of a different shape or design, were stationed at intervals in convenient proximity to comfortable chairs. Nothing could be further removed from one's idea of a schoolroom than was that long, beautiful parlor. Yet when you thought of it and took a second deliberate survey, nothing that could have contributed to the enjoyment of pupils was missing. A small cabinet organ occupied an alcove, and music books of various grades were strewn over it. Toward this spot Mrs. Roberts smiled significantly as her eye caught Alfred Reed's, and she said, I have visions of sacred Sabbath evening half hours connected with this corner one of these days. Meantime is this a pleasant room for our Monday evenings? But Alfred could not answer her, his head was turned away, and there was a suspicious lump in his throat that made him no better than to attempt speech. He was standing at that moment under one of the wall texts that the gaslight illumined until it glowed, and the word stood out with startling clearness. Let us not sleep as do others, but let us watch and be sober. His sister's text, one that perhaps more than any other, was on her lips when she talked with him, one that hung at her coffin's head when he, a little boy, stood beside the coffin and looked down at her face, and looked up at that text, and took a mental photograph of both to live in his heart forever. This is your special chair, Mrs. Roberts said, smiling up at him, and he understood her. Here was his opportunity to live out that text for his sister. Wouldn't he try? Well, said Gracie, drawing a long breath, as a study it is certainly a success. One can easily see, Flossie, why you were born with the ability to tell at a glance what colors harmonized and just where things fitted in. I can't imagine anything prettier than this, and I cannot imagine what you are going to do with it. Whereupon they sat down to talk that important question over what they were going to try to do. Sometimes I have wondered whether Esther, from her beautiful home, could look down on it all, and whether she smiled over the fact that her work was doing so much more than she had planned. She had roused in her little brother an ambition that had grown with his years, and that had helped to hold him away from many temptations. So much doubtless she had foreseen. But what a blessed thing it was that she had touched, in those long ago years, influences which had drawn her brother, in his young and perilous manhood, into intimate relations with such people as Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, so that they sat down familiarly to talk over mutual interests. But for Esther's words spoken long ago, but for her strong desires transmitted to him, he might have sat with a very different circle, and talked over widely different schemes. On the edge of this circle Gracie Dennis hovered. She could not but be interested in their talk, for she was a Christian, and her father was a Christian, and she had all her life breathed in the atmosphere of a Christian home. At the same time she could but imagine some of their ideas wild ones, for she had never been associated with people who widely overstepped the conventional ways of doing things. And she had, of late, been much with Professor Ellis, who had a sort of gentlemanly sneer for every phase of Christian work, and, so far as could be discovered, believed in nothing. He had not been outspoken it is true, and herein lay one of the dangers. He was too skillful to be outspoken. But the subtle poison had been working, and although Gracie could not help being interested in those queer boys, she could not help thinking Flossie's whole scheme exceedingly visionary, and expected it to come to grief. The puzzling question was, why did Mr. Roberts, being a keen sighted man, permit it all? Or was he too much in love with Flossie that he could not bear to thwart even her wildest flights? It was strange, too, to see a young man like Alfred Reed so absorbed. His sister must have had wonderful power over him, Gracie thought. She went back to his sister's influence always, in trying to explain the matter, and never gave a thought to Christ's influence. Meantime she listened to the various plans proposed for the first Monday evening, and was sufficiently interested to gather her pretty face in a frown when the distant peel from the doorbell sounded through the house. What a pity to be interrupted by a collar, she exclaimed. This room is so much nicer than the parlor. Flossie, don't you hope it is someone to see Mr. Roberts on business? No, said Mrs. Roberts, shaking her head with a smile. I feel in special need of Mr. Roberts just now. Evan, I really think we must be excused to collars for this one evening. There are so many things to arrange. Let us wait and see, answered Mr. Roberts. Perhaps the Lord sent the collar here to help us, or to be helped. At that moment came the card. Oh, it is Dr. Everett, was Mrs. Roberts' exclamation. Let us have him come directly here. Evan, please go and escort him. You were right. The Lord has sent him to help us. I don't know how, I'm sure, but he is just the man to help everywhere. And the circle instantly widened itself to receive Dr. Everett. It took almost no time to speak the commonplace of the occasion and get back at once to the business of the hour. It was evident that Dr. Everett needed no lengthy explanations, and there was apparently nothing bewildering to his mind in the plan. True, it was new to him, but he seemed to spring at once to the center of their thoughts. His eyes glowed for a moment and he said with peculiar emphasis, Read, when the Son of Man cometh, he will surely find some faith on the earth. Then he gave himself to intensest listening and questioning, and presently followed his questions with suggestions which showed that unconventional ways of working were not altogether new to him. As for Gracie, she had as much as she could do to listen intelligently. She almost caught her breath over the rapidity with which the talkers moved from one scheme to another. All the time there was a curious process of comparison between this man and Professor Ellis going on in her mind. Not that she wished to compare the two. She told herself that it was absurd to do so, nonetheless she did it. For instance, she reminded herself that she had mentally assented promptly to the suggestion of inviting the doctor to this room to talk this strange scheme over. She had recognized the fitness of the act. But suppose Professor Ellis should call would it not be simply absurd to think of explaining to him the uses of this unique room? Who would for a moment think of suggesting his name as a helper? I do not know how to describe to you the appearance of that room on Monday evening when the boys were in it. I do not know whether the sight to you would have been pitiful or ludicrous. How can I tell not knowing you? There was a dreadful incongruity between the soiled ragged clothes and matted hair and unwashed hands and the exquisite purity which prevailed around them. Of course you could have seen that. But the all important question, the answer to which would have stamped your place in the world's workshop, would have been do you see any further than that and seeing further which way? Do you see the possibilities or the certainties of failure? Oh no, I am wrong. It would take more than that to tell where you belong. Dr. Everett saw the possibilities and gloried in them. Gracie Dennis thought she saw the certainty of failure and was sorry for it. But Professor Ellis would have seen the certainty of failure and would have met it with a sneer if he had not been too indifferent even for that. As for Mrs. Roberts, did she or did she not represent a different and higher type than any of the others? She thought not much about either success or failure but pushed steadily forward the plan that she believed she had gotten on her knees born of the Spirit. If it truly were of God, nothing could make it fail. But if she mistook and the plan was only hers, mere failure in that direction would signify nothing she would have but to try again. Something of this she felt but she did not reason out for she was no logician. What the boys saw was a great splendid room, the like of which they had never seen before for they recognized without being able to explain the difference between it and the parlors and felt freer in it. They all came and they looked not one width better than on the Monday evening before. Over this fact Gracie Dennis, with all her public scoffing, was in private a little disappointed. It is true she had not expected to see them again, but if they came she thought it possible that they might have been tempted to appear with clean hands and faces. Possibly some were so tempted and but for the difficulties in the way might really have tried for this, but Gracie was not sufficiently enlightened to dream of difficulties in the way of simply washing one's face and hands. During the Saturday evening conference it had been decided that Mr. Roberts must make acquaintance with his guests. It would never do to have them come familiarly to his house and he not be able to recognize them on the streets. Several plans were suggested for introducing him skillfully to them, but he disapproved of them all. No, he said, I'll tell you what will do. I will introduce myself. You may receive them Flossie and then retire for a few minutes, and I'll let myself in by the conservatory passage and make myself acquainted to the best of my abilities. In ten minutes Flossie I'll give you leave to return. As for the rest of you, don't dare to venture in until I have made good my claim as the head of the house. I am jealous of you perhaps. To this plan Mrs. Roberts readily assented, but the young clerk looked doubtful. In common with the rest of his employees he stood in wholesome awe of the keen-eyed, thorough businessman who seemed to know as by a sort of instinct when anything in any department of the great store was not moving according to rule. His knowledge of Mr. Roberts outside of the store was limited, and he expected to find the boys, if not frightened, so odd that they would resolve never to be caught inside that room again. However, he of course only looked his fears. He was too much afraid of the great merchant to express them, and it had been understood when they separated that this plan was to be carried out. CHAPTER 17 I WONDER WHAT THEY'RE ALL AFTER In the library awaited Gracie and Mr. Reed, while Mrs. Roberts went merrily to see whether the boys or their host had proved the stronger. I don't believe this part of the program will work, Alfred said confidently, the moment the door closed after Mrs. Roberts. Those fellows will all be afraid of Mr. Roberts, and we shall lose what little hold we have on them. They don't look to me as though it ever occurred to them to be afraid of anything, Gracie said, but Alfred Reed, who had studied deeper into this problem of the different classes of society, was ready with his answer. Yes they are. They can be odd and made to feel uncomfortable to the degree that they will resolve not to appear in that region again. One cannot judge from their behavior in Sabbath school. Some way they recognize a mission school as being in a sense their property and behave accordingly. But in a man's own house, surrounded by things of which they do not even know the name, he has them at a disadvantage and can easily rouse within them the feeling that they are trapped. Then which there is nothing those fellows dread so much, I believe. But they were not afraid of Flossie last week, even surrounded by the elegances of her parlors in dining-room. Ah, he said, his eyes alight, she has a wisdom born of God, I think, for managing these and all other concerns. She is unlike everybody else. Whereupon Gracie Dennis laughed, not a disagreeable laugh, but there came to her just then a sense of the strangeness of thinking that pretty Flossie Shipley, who she had known all her life, and half scorned from the heights of her childhood because she was a silly little thing who could not do her problems in class, should have a wisdom unlike any others. Yet almost immediately her laugh was stayed because the change in Flossie was so great that she, too, recognized it as born of God. Sometimes it came with force to this proud young girl that if God could do so much for Flossie, what might he not be willing to do with those whom he had made intellectually her superior if they were but ready to be led? The young man who was studying her watched the grave look deep in on her face and wondered at its source. What a pretty face it was. Oh, much more than pretty, there was a great strength in it and sweetness, too, of a certain sort. But he could not help comparing the sort with that in some other faces, and he wondered over the difference. This young lady was a Christian. Why should her Christian experience stamp her with such a different expression from that which others wore? He always finished this sort of sentence with a blank space first, as though he did not choose to have himself tell himself any names, yet he spoke a name forcibly enough, still gazing earnestly at Gracie. Did you ever meet Miss Joy Saunders? Gracie turned toward him a laughing face. No, but we are very anxious, too, Flossie and I. We have both been told that we ought to know her, and told so earnestly that we really think we ought. Who is she? Is she, too, unlike anybody else? Very, he said promptly, I know her very little. She is the daughter of our landlady. I meet her in the hall on rare occasions, and sometimes catch glimpses of her just vanishing from some room as I enter. But as for being acquainted with her, I suppose I am not. I think, though of course I am by no means sure, that she is engaged to Dr. Everett. Oh, then of course he would naturally think that people ought to know her. What is she like? Like nothing, said Alfred, with great promptness. Did you ever know a person named Joy? No, what a singular name. Well, it fits. She is very far removed from mirth, and she is not what people call gay, and she is not outspoken apparently at any time, though as I say I do not know her. But there is something in her face that fits the name. I do not know what it is. Sometimes I think it is the shining of Christ's face reflected in her. But the puzzle is, why do not other faces have it? Faces which belong to him? Perhaps there is a difference in the degree of belonging. Gracie spoke the words very gently, wondering meanwhile at the way in which this thought chimed in with hers about Flossie. Oh, there is. But why should there be? If I belong to Christ, I belong, don't I? There is no halfway service possible. Why do I not so look that others take knowledge of me that I have been with Jesus? How do you know what they do? Ah, I know. I know too well. They are more likely a great deal to take knowledge that I have been with Satan. I feel a frown all over my face a great deal of the time, and the world goes astray a great many times when I suppose it is just myself that is wrong. But Ms. Dennis I hunger for the shining of his face in me. That must be the meaning of the beatitude which puzzled my childhood, she answered trying to speak lightly, to hide feelings that were deeply moved. Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness for they shall be filled. Thank you, he said smiling. There is actually a promise. I had not thought of it. And yet, the thoughtful frown gathering almost immediately, do you suppose that a person who really hungered for a certain thing could be satisfied with anything else? I often have an hour of what at the moment seems to me like hungered for him, but the hour passes and I get filled with business or with plans or possibly with annoyances, and feel nothing but a general irritation for everybody. Do you think there can be anything genuine about such desires so easily turned aside? Oh, I do not know, said Gracie hastily. Why do you ask me such things? Did not I tell you I was not good? Ask those people who are unlike all others. Why don't you ask this joy? She could tell you, I presume. I can tell you nothing, save that this is a very strange world, not half so nice as I once thought it, and I don't like to think about things. How different he was from other young men with whom she had spent fifteen minutes, many a time, in gay banter. This was, after all, the thought uppermost in her mind at the moment. Nice Christian men of whom her father spoke well, and who, people said, were young men to be proud of. It seemed to her that she knew them by the dozens, yet with which one of them had she ever carried on such a conversation as this. With which one could she have attempted anything of the kind without leading him to suppose that she was taking leave of her senses? She recalled some of the gay words that she had spoken with these others and tried hurriedly to decide why it would sound to her perfectly absurd to talk with Alfred Reed in that way. However, she did not want to talk with him. He was too full of questionings. And questions, said poor Gracie, are all that I can ask myself. I want somebody to talk with who is assured of the ground on which he stands and can tell me why he stands there. There was not time for further talk. They were summoned to the new room. Bursts of laughter greeted their ears as they made their way eagerly across the hall, and Gracie took time to remark that the boys were certainly not odd into silence before the opening door let them into the brightly lighted scene. Every boy was laughing, not quietly but immoderately, and the center of attraction was evidently Mr. Roberts. I have been giving our friends an account of an old army experience, he said in explanation to Gracie, and we have been enjoying a laugh together over the old memory. You are all acquainted with Miss Dennis, I think, young gentleman. Clearly there was no need for anyone to introduce Mr. Roberts to the boys. Apparently they knew him now better than they did any of the others. Yet as Gracie, after shaking hands with each of the guests, took a vacant seat by nimble Dick, she was greeted with a confidential whisper. That's a jolly chap as ever I saw, and I never heard anything to beat the yarn he told us for cuteness. Who is he? Why, he is Mr. Evan Roberts, the owner of this house. My eyes, said Dick, gazing about him in a startled way. Look here, he ain't that Roberts from the big store on Fourth Street. Yes, he is, he is one of the partners in that store. Then did nimble Dick give a low whistle, suddenly cut short as the other boys looked at him, and set up straight in his chair, and for at least a minute was odd, or else was bewildered. If his mind could have been looked into for a moment, something like this might have been seen there. And here I am sitting in one of his chairs, and been laughing to kill over his funny story. If this ain't the greatest lark out, I wonder what they're all after anyhow. Then the real business of the evening commenced. I should like to describe that evening, but it is really worse to describe than the boys. It was designed to be one of those most difficult evenings, where every act and almost every word has been previously arranged, but arranged in such a manner as to appear like an impromptu effort, the result of merely the happenings of the hour. For instance, Mrs. Roberts aimed at nothing less formidable than the teaching of these boys to read and write, and know as well as ever I know it, that to frankly own that she was ready and willing to give her time and patience in so teaching them would be to outwit herself. They did not belong to the class who can be beguiled into evening schools. There are such, Mark Calkins would have seized such an opportunity and rejoiced over it, but these were lower in the scale. They did not realize their need, and they had what they in ignorance called independence. They were not to be trapped by evening schools. Therefore it required diplomacy, and no people can be more diplomatic on occasion than certain most innocent looking little women. Mrs. Roberts had studied her way step by step. Therefore it was that by the most natural passage possible she led the way to a discussion of different styles of writing, bringing forth to aid her a certain old autograph album which had been to many places of note, among others, Shatakwa, and had the names of distinguished persons as well as of many who were not distinguished except for Christian endurance in consenting to write in an autograph album. Good writers were talked about and selected, and poor writers were talked about, and it was said by someone, accidentally, of course, that a good hand was really an accomplishment. It is more than that, declared Mr. Roberts, a man's business life often turns on it. I have myself had to turn away from several otherwise suitable helpers in our business because they really could not write a good clear hand that could be read without studying. Are you a good writer, Ms. Gracie? This remark coming suddenly to Gracie from her host almost embarrassed her, for you are not to suppose that the very words by which these themes should be introduced had been planned, and it had not occurred to Gracie that so personal a question might be asked her, but she rallied quickly. No, sir, I am sorry to say that I am not. I write what Papa calls a mincing hand all jumbled up together, you know, or running into each other the letters are, and so difficult to read that Papa said when I came away he hoped I would call on his friend Dr. Stewart every day and write a letter on his typewriter. What is that, interrupted nimble dick, his face curious? What, a typewriter? Oh, it is a strange little machine used instead of the pen. At least a very few people use it. It is quite new, I think, and must be very curious. I never saw one, but the writing looks just like print. Mr. Stewart, a pastor in the city, is my Papa's friend and writes to him on his, and Papa reads the letter with great satisfaction, saying to me, their daughter, that is something like, people who cannot write well enough for others to read should print. They are not so very uncommon, Ms. Dennis, explained Dr. Everett, who saw the eagerness in nimble dick's face. It is a comparatively new invention, but is being caught up very promptly. I think nearly all the leading lawyers use them, and those who do not own them are getting their copying done at the rooms. They are very ingenious little instruments. Did you say you never saw one? This question from Mr. Roberts to Gracie, and he added, Mrs. Roberts, I believe you have never had other than the first glimpse I showed you in the Parker building. I have an idea. Suppose I rent one of the little fellows to interest us. It would be pleasant to look into it and see how it works. Did none of you ever see one? Well, now we'll try for that on next Monday evening. I'll have one sent up tomorrow, and Ms. Gracie will appoint you showman for the following Monday. So it is to be hoped that you will employ your leisure in learning how to manage the creature, and perhaps send your father a readable letter at the same time. Now, as may readily be supposed, all this about machinery had not been arranged for beforehand, but was a side issue, born of the fact that the watchful servant of his master saw an eager look in the eyes of the boy dick directly there was anything said that suggested machinery. One of the great aims of these evenings was to study character however developed. Having turned his company from the regular channel, Mr. Roberts made haste to put them skillfully back where they were before. Still, it would be a pity to resort to machinery simply because one did not know how to write well. I would rather set to work to correct the error. I happen to know one of our number who can write a very enviable hand. Do you know, Reed, that the letter you wrote me was the first thing which attracted me to you? I remember I showed the note to one of our senior partners, who was particularly disturbed by poor writing, and he said, Engage him, Roberts, do. A young man who can write like that will be a relief. Mrs. Roberts, I move you that we resolve ourselves at this moment to a writing class to be taught by Mr. Reed. My dear sir, will you take us in hand? Something of this kind had been planned. At least it had been planned that Reed should be asked to do this thing, but he found the actual asking embarrassing and struggled with it with flushing cheeks. Gracie came to his aid. I don't know whether I'll take lessons or not. Who wants to expose one's ignorance? Will you teach? Must we each give a specimen of our present attainments? Instantly, Reed divined the reason for the question. No, he said eagerly. Oh, no. I should begin with those horrors of your childhood, hot hooks or something of that sort. Lines and curves, you know. There are not many of them after all in our letters, and when once a person has conquered them, it is easy to put them together. There was more talk easy and social. Mr. and Mrs. Roberts, the doctor and Gracie, seemed equally interested in the project, and questioned young Reed until he assured them that he began to feel like a veritable professor. Apparently the boys were forgotten. This very fact put them at their ease, and they listened, interested, and amused over the thought that these ladies and gentlemen wanted to go to school. At first I do not think it occurred to one of them that he was included in the proposal to form a writing class. How was it done? I am not sure that any one of the eager group of workers could have told you afterward, so excited did they become over this first scheme. Nobody could remember just what words were said, nor who said them, nor whether the boys all looked equally startled when paper and pen were put into each hand. They remembered that some shook their heads emphatically, and that nimble dick spoke plainly. No, you don't. I can't write any more than a duck can, and I never expect to. Mrs. Roberts knew that Dirk Coulson's dark face turned a fierce red, and he snapped the offered pen halfway across the table with his indignant thumb and finger. But of these words and acts nobody apparently took any notice. The writing began, and the first marks given as copies were so simple, looked so easy to do, and the attempts of the ladies and gentlemen fell so far short of what the teacher desired, and were so unmercifully criticized by him, and the criticisms were so merrily received by the writers, that at last the whole thing took the form of a joke to nimble dick's mind, and he became possessed with a burning desire to try. One by one the boys stealthily followed his example, Alfred taking care to watch eagerly, to commend both Stephen Crowley and Gracie Dennis in the same breath for some true stroke, and criticize both Mrs. Roberts and nimble dick for not holding the pen a right. The entire party became so interested that only Mrs. Roberts knew just when Dirk Coulson stealthily filled back his pen from the distance to which it had been rolled, and sitting upright that he might attract the less notice, tried his hand on the curve which was giving even Dr. Everett trouble. When the young teacher discovered it, he made also another discovery which he proclaimed. Upon my word I beg the pardon of each of you, but Coulson here has made the only respectable R-curve there is in the company. Then if his sister, Mart, had seen the glow on Dirk's face, I am not sure that she would have known him. There was a momentary transformation. As for Mrs. Roberts, she bowed though over the letter she was carefully forming, but it was to say in soft whisper heard by one ear alone. Thank God! Esther read yet speaking by pansy, Chapter 18, Yorns the Way You are not to suppose because this first Monday evening, which by the way was concluded with sandwiches and coffee, was a success, pronounced so by all concerned, that therefore the ones which followed were all rose color. Fortunately not one of the workers expected this, and so were brave and cheerful under drawbacks. These were numerous and varied. After the first novelty wore off, it took at times only the most trivial excuses to keep the boys away. Sometimes when they called, their conduct was anything but encouraging. They lulled in the easy chairs, smelling strongly of tobacco and other bar room orders, refused insolently to apply themselves to any work at hand, audibly pronounced the whole thing slow, and in numberless ways severely tried the patience of both Alfred and Gracie. For the others they had counted the cost, at least the gentleman had, and expected to move slowly even to appear to go backward some of the time. As for Mrs. Roberts, I have told you that she worked in a peculiar manner with the motto, this one thing I do apparently ever before her. Each evening was distinct in itself with efforts to make and obstacles to overcome, and at its close she had a way of laying it aside as something with which her part was done, not attempting even to calculate results. Then she was ready to turn to a new day and work steadily for that. The winter was slipping away, and Gracie Dennis lingered. She could hardly have told you why, yet there were many apparent reasons. Mrs. Roberts wanted her, rejoiced in her, and coaxed irresistibly as often as the thought of going home was mentioned. Then Gracie, laugh over the peculiar work going on as she might, was undeniably interested in those boys. She was working for them, therefore, of course, she was interested. I don't see how you can go this week, would young Reid say to her with a perplexed air. You know we have that matter all planned for next Monday evening. How can we carry out the scheme if you are not there to do your part? Then would Gracie laugh and demure and admit to herself only that it was very pleasant to be needed, as she certainly was, for one night more, and so the nights passed. Her work was to be Professor of Elocution, as Mr. Roberts Galey called her when the workers were alone together. It had been discovered that she could read both prose and poetry with effect. So a reading class was organized, and they chose for the first evening, not one of Brian's or Whittier's gems, nor selections from Milton or Shakespeare, which would have suited part of the company, nor yet the easy readings in some standard spelling book, which would have fitted the capacity of the others. But with great care and much discussion, one of Will Carlton's descriptive poems, full of homely yet tender language, full of pathos and of humor, was unanimously selected. The first evening reading had been commenced with nuts and apples. There are those who can see no connection between this and the intellectual. Happily for the characters with whom she had to deal, Mrs. Roberts was not one of them. While the others were still enjoying the refreshments, she took the book and read. This was her quiet little sacrifice. It was not pleasant to her to become a public reader. It required courage to get through with one verse, with Dr. Everett sitting opposite, and Gracie Dennis on a low seat at her side, and her husband listening intently. Mrs. Roberts was not a good reader and was aware of it. She pronounced the words correctly it is true, but when you had said that, you had said all that there was to offer in praise of her effort. She had some exasperating faults, but she bravely read the first two verses, and some of the boys listened, and one of them laughed. He had caught a gleam of the fun in the poem. This, of course, was nimble dick. Then Alfred Reed made the same effort on the same verses. His performance was very little better, and he too knew it. He could write, but he was by no means a public reader. This was his offering to the general good. If those fellows, by reason of his mistakes, could be induced to climb, he was willing to offer his pride on the altar, no matter by what petty trials they were caught, so that they were really caught. Then followed Gracie Dennis, and her own father, acceptable preacher though he was, might with credit to himself have taken lessons of her. She was certainly, for one so young and unprofessional, a magnificent reader. So indeed was Marianne Wilbur, and she had enjoyed teaching Gracie. The poem blossomed in her hand. The crunching of nuts and apples entirely ceased. The boys sat erect, and listened, and laughed, and flushed, and swallowed suspiciously over some of the homely pathos. They had never heard anything like that before, and they evidently appreciated it. She read it through to the end. Then were unloosed the tongues. They exclaimed in delight. What an accomplishment it is, said Mr. Roberts, and how few possess it. Doctor, how many really fine readers have you heard in your life? About three, said the doctor, leconically. Well, said Mrs. Roberts, let us all be exceptions. Gracie, teach us how. I will try again. And she did, on the first verse of the poem, with better success than before, but how sharp the contrast between her reading and Gracie's she knew. It was not easy for her to read. I don't know, possibly I am mistaken, but it seems to me that I have known people ready for large sacrifices who would yet shrink painfully from these little ones. In discussing the program for the evening, the question had been, when each had done his part, how were they to influence the boys to join? Could they join? Was it possible that they knew enough about reading to attempt to speak the words of the poem? With reference to this obstacle, a poem had been chosen full of simple, homely words, such as are in common use, especially was the first verse free from what Mr. Roberts called shoals. Having heard the verse read several times, it was hoped that some one of the seven might have courage to attempt it, but Gracie did not believe that such would be the case. I don't see how we can ask them and do it naturally, said Dr. Everett. It is such an unheard-of thing, you know, and I am afraid, do our best, it will present itself to them as a patronage, and that will be fatal. The people who are low enough to need patronage are the very ones who won't endure it. Whereupon various ways of managing the matter were discussed and discarded, suddenly Mrs. Roberts turned to her young lieutenant, who had been silent for some time, and said, What are you thinking of, Mr. Reed? Do you see a way out? No, he said. I have neither knowledge nor skill in such matters, but my thoughts just then were far away. I was thinking how curiously certain apparently trivial instances of one's childhood will stand out with almost startling prominence. What sent you off in that direction? questioned Dr. Everett. There must have been an association of ideas. Oh, there was! I was thinking how vividly I remembered a discussion between my mother and my sister younger than Esther in regard to some matter which perplexed them, and when they could come to no satisfactory conclusion they appealed to my sister Esther, who was resting as usual on her lounge. I can seem to hear her voice, as she said. We haven't to do anything about it until tomorrow. Perhaps tomorrow will have a light of its own for our direction. Thank you, Mrs. Roberts said, her eyes lighting with an appreciative smile. We have not to do anything about this until Monday night, and perhaps Monday night will see us wise. I don't know how many thought of this little conversation when Monday evening came, but certainly Alfred Reed and Mrs. Roberts did, for she glanced at him and smiled significantly when Dr. Everett, having apparently forgotten that anything beyond their own pleasure was in contemplation, challenged Gracie to a discussion as to the emphasis on a certain word in the second line. He had never heard it so read, and he called for an analysis that would sustain the reading, and received it, and was not yet prepared to yield the point, but read the verse as he imagined it should be read, and then Gracie, at Mr. Roberts' call, repeated it with her rendering, and I am not sure but all parties concerned actually forgot their final object in the interest of the discussion until they were suddenly called to it by an interrupting voice. Yorns the way, it said, with an emphatic nod of a shock of matted hair, yorns the way. It was Dirk Coulson. He had forgotten for the moment that anybody was listening to him save the two readers. He was looking directly at Gracie, and the nods were evidently intended for her. Of course it is, she said eagerly, her face fleshing with a triumph that had nothing to do with the right emphasis. You read it, won't you, and show these people that we are right? Afterward Mrs. Roberts confessed that she involuntarily placed her hand on her heart, with a dim idea of hushing its beating, lest others could hear, so important to her did the moment seem. Dr. Everett looked dismayed, the least hopeful one of the seven seems Dirk. None of them knew of his dangerous talent for imitation. None of them believed that he would make any attempt at reading, but thought he would shrink into deeper sullenness. All of them were mistaken. He reached for the book, glanced for a moment over the lines, and then read the verse with so complete an imitation of Gracie Dennis, and yet with a voice and manner that so fitted the homely words and the homely scene described that the effect was actually better than when Gracie read. Instinctively the cultured portion of his audience greeted the effort with a clapping of hands. The blood, meantime, rolled in dark waves over Dirk's face. He had been cheered before. None of his present applauders could imagine what a set had often clapped their hands over his successful imitations, but Dirk, who liked applause as well as other human beings do, had never in his wildest stretches of imagination placed himself before such people as listened now and received their approval. Great was the excitement and satisfaction. The six companions, far from feeling any emotion of jealousy, seemed greatly elated, believing that one of their number had made a hit and increased their importance. No one else could be found to attempt the verse. Nimble Dirk shook his head good-naturedly, and declared that he would rather undertake to run an engine to California than try it. And the others were of like mind. Then came Gracie to the front again. I'll tell you what you must all do. I have been experimenting with that typewriter, Mr. Roberts, all the week. You know it will manifold with the use of carbon paper, and it chances that when I was seized with a desire to try its powers in that direction, I choose this very verse to copy. So I have fifteen good copies in print. You must each take a copy and make this verse a study until next Monday, then I shall challenge you all to sustain me in my reading. This proposition was hailed with such satisfaction by the older members that it immediately became popular, and each boy received his copy mechanically and gazed at it curiously. But Dirk Coulson's thoughts were turned in a new channel. Look here, he said, detaining Gracie by an imperious inclination of his head as she handed him the copy. How did you make these? Didn't you print them fifteen times? I don't understand what you said. Why no, said Gracie, the machine will manifold. I'll show you. Come over to the end window. It stands there waiting to be displayed, and it is a little wonder. Then they crowded around the typewriter, and Gracie really proud of the skill she had acquired in a week's time, showed off the little wonder to great advantage. The fact that the typewriter was new to most of the others, that they were decidedly ignorant as to its working, increased the comfort of the hour by doing away with the embarrassing feeling that any one of them was playing apart. Dr. Everett was no more familiar with the typewriter than was Dirk Coulson and was just as eager to know about it. Also everybody, apparently, felt an equally strong desire to write his name on the marvelous little creature, and each in turn sat down before it and moved his awkward hands with nearly equal slowness over the keys, picking out the magic letters. It was this episode that made the workers during their next conference branch out into new lines. We need something, said Dr. Everett, walking up and down the floor in puzzled thought. We need something that shall be a genuine common interest, of which we are all, or all but one, equally ignorant. Something that we can take hold of with zest, on as low a platform as the most ignorant of those seen. I was convinced of that when I saw the abandon with which we all went into the typewriter business, with the naturalness and equality that, in the manner of reading and writing, it is impossible for us to feel. If the machine were complicated, so that it would take us each three months or so to master it, that would do. What can we take up that will place us on a level? CHAPTER 19 We have begun backwards. Well, said Mr. Reed, we should want to have one of our number not on a level. How would it do to appoint you, sir, to give us a few lectures in hygiene, popular lectures about air and exercise and ventilation and bathing, and all sorts of everyday topics about which people are ignorant? That's a capital idea, Reed. Those fellows could certainly be benefited by a little attention to such questions, and I'm sure the rest of us would like to hear of the principles which govern these important laws. Such lectures put into popular form are decidedly interesting, I think. Let us vote for them. This was Mr. Robert's hearty seconding. But the doctor laughed. There is a ludicrous side to it which you do not see, he said. Imagine me holding forth on the importance of ventilation, for instance, to a poor fellow who comes from a region where father and mother and a horde of children of both sexes and all ages, proud together in one room and that a cellar where the sun never penetrates and the air that crawls in through the one small window is reeking with even more impurities than can be found inside. We're talking about bathing to the poor wretches who have no clothing to change, and barely water enough by carrying it long distances to satisfy their most pressing needs. Still, Reed, I'm not quarreling with your idea. There is a sensible side to it. There are things that I could tell even those boys which might interest them and would probably be to their advantage to know. The subject is one which can be popularized to suit even such an audience. I'll try for it occasionally if it shall seem best, but it doesn't meet my demand. I want us all on a platform where we shall start in equal ignorance and get on together. Of course, you are all the more or less familiar with all the facts that I should have to present. And the boys would know it. They are sharp fellows. It wouldn't take them an hour to discover that we were fishing for them, and if there is any one thing on which they were at present determined, it is probably that they will not be benefited. What is there that one of us knows of which the others are ignorant? French won't do, for Miss Dennis is acquainted with that language, I think, and so are you, Reed, are you not? While I can stammer through a few sentences, I don't speak it like a native as you do. At this revelation a vivid blush glowed on Gracie Dennis' cheek. She remembered Professor Ellis' comments in French. Then the doctor had understood, though his face was so impeturbable. What could he have thought of the courtesy of her guest? Meantime, Mr. Reed wore a perplexed face. You are right, he said to the doctor. We are not enough on a level. I felt our advantage last night when Miss Dennis was explaining the typewriter, but I don't see the way clear. What subject is there on which all but one of us could meet on common ground, and that one could turn Professor? Here interposed Mr. Roberts, speaking in a meek tone of voice. If I were not a modest man I should venture a suggestion, as it is I really don't know what to do. The doctor turned to him quickly. Out with it man, if you are master of a profession or a trade or a theory unknown to the rest of us, you are bound on your honor as a member of this unique organization to present it. At the same moment Mrs. Roberts came to his aid. Oh, Evan, teach us shorthand, whereupon Mr. Roberts heaved what was intended to appear as a relieved sigh and announced that his modesty was preserved. Upon this suggestion they seized with eagerness, not one of them knew anything about phonetic writing saved Mr. Roberts, and he was master of the art. It is the very thing, the doctor said with heartiness, I should like exceedingly to learn it, and read and the ladies may be able to make it useful in a hundred ways, and as for the seven, if they really master it, it may be the foundation of a fortune for some of them. So, without more ado, it was planned that at the very next Monday evening the subject should be skillfully presented, its importance and its fascinations discussed, and the boys be beguiled into taking a first lesson sandwiched in between the all-important reading and writing lessons. Alas for plans, on the very next Monday the conspirators, with the exception of young Reed, were together by seven o'clock. The faint aroma of coffee floated through the room. A fruit basket filled with oranges occupied a conspicuous table, and everything waited for the guests. While they waited, instead of enjoying themselves, as the four were certainly capable of doing, they were noticeably restless, listened for the shuffling of careless feet on the steps, and the sound of uncultured voices in the hall, and waited expectantly whenever the bell pealed, only to be obliged to send word to some collar that Mr. and Mrs. Roberts were engaged. The special occupation of the four seemed to be to look at their watches, and to remark that the doctors was a trifle fast, and to wonder if half-past seven would be a more suitable hour for the boys, and to wonder what could be detaining Reed. At last it was half-past seven, and then it was fifteen minutes of eight, and then it was ten minutes of eight, and then the doorbell rang again. It was Reed, and he was alone. One glance at his distressed face told the lookers on that something was amiss, even before he exclaimed, You won't see a boy tonight. Why? What is the trouble? Where are they? These were the various ways of putting the same question. One of the McCollum partners has become interested in the boys, it seems, and has concluded that he will try what he can do towards their elevation. So he has commenced by presenting each one of them with a ticket to the Green Street Theatre, and there they are at this moment. This startling intelligence was variously received. Dr. Everett exclaimed, Is it possible? Gracie Dennis remarked that it was something like what she expected. Mrs. Roberts said not a word, and Mr. Roberts added to the astonishment of the moment by bursting into a laugh. Poor Reed seemed to feel the laugh more than anything. His face gathered into heavier clouds than before. He bit his lip to hold back the vexed words that were just ready to burst forth, and strode almost angrily into the further corner of the room. An embarrassed silence seemed to fall upon the others. At least Gracie felt embarrassed, the doctor looked simply expectant. At last Mr. Roberts drew himself up from his lounging attitude and broke into the stillness. Ah, now good people, don't let us make serious mistakes. Come back here, my dear young brother, and let us look this thing in the face and talk it over calmly. Are we children playing at benevolence that at the first discouragement we should cry out, all is lost, and retire vanquished? Come, I laughed because really this does not seem such a serious matter to me as it seems to present to the rest of you. What did we expect? Here are seven boys right from the gutters. Somehow we have had them laid on our hearts and have enlisted to help fight the battle that is going on about them in this world. Christ died to save them, and Satan means that the sacrifice shall be in vain. He is bringing all his powers to bear on them, and he has many and varied powers. Here comes into the scene a man benevolently inclined, not a Christian, but in his way a philanthropist. By accident he has come in contact with one of the boys. By accident he learns that something, he does not know quite what, is being attempted to benefit them. Can't you give him the credit of being honest? The only thing he thinks of that he can do to help them is to give them an evening's entertainment. At one of the decent theatres there is being presented what seems to be known in their parlance as a moral play. So he presents each boy with a ticket. Now what did we expect of those boys? Last week a lady and two gentlemen who have been members of our church for years left the regular prayer meeting and went to the Philharmonic concert. Are we to expect that it would even occur to our seven boys to give up what to them is a rare treat for the pleasure of spending an evening with us? As for the moral obligation, they have probably never so much as heard the words. Isn't it time we knew what we were about? What are we after? It is well enough to teach the poor fellows to read and write and to help lift them up in other ways, but our efforts will amount to very little unless we succeed in bringing them to the great lever of human society. Unless Christ take hold of this thing we shall fail. Now has he taken hold? Is he at least as much interested in them as we are? Is his Holy Spirit proceeding and supplementing all our efforts? And if this is the case, is an evening at a theatre going to ruin his plans? Long before these earnest words were concluded, Reed had returned from his distant corner and taken a seat near his employer. His eyes were full of tears and his voice trembled. I beg your pardon, Mr. Roberts. I am an ignorant blunderer. I did feel for a moment as though everything were lost. We have begun backwards, said Mr. Roberts. I was reading today that a mistake the missionaries made for years in trying to civilize the Greenlanders and what a perfect failure they made of it until one day almost by accident a man began to tell them about Christ on the cross and the story melted them. I don't think I have thought enough about him in this matter. I stand convicted, Dr. Everett said. I have made the same mistake, I believe, in all my efforts for people. I have been praying for them, it is true, but after all I feel now as though there had been too much relying on human means and not enough on God. It is a case of these IE to have done and not to have left the other undone. Well, said Mr. Roberts, looking at his watch, we are in the same condemnation. It is, I believe, the most common and one of the most fatal mistakes that Christian workers make. But there is a way out. We expected to spend until ten o'clock with those boys. It is nearly nine now. Suppose we spend the next hour with Christ asking for the power of the Holy Spirit on any and every effort that we may make for them in the future. Our ultimate aim is to bring every one of them to Jesus and he knows it. Now, if we have gone about in the wrong way, we have only to ask him forgiveness and look to him steadily for guidance. What do you say, friends? Shall we spend the hour in taking them to the only one who really can afford them lasting help? I suppose that he who maketh the wrath of man to praise him is equally able to manage the folly of man. Could the indudicious philanthropist have looked into that room that evening and heard the prayers that went up to God for those boys, and understood something of the power of prayer, he would have had one illustration of how God manages the foolishness of men. It was a very earnest prayer meeting. These workers had each one bowed in secret and with more or less earnestness asked for God's blessing on their efforts. But it occurred to them that evening, as a very strange thing, that they had never unitedly prayed for this before. Therefore there was an element of confession in all the prayers that moved Gracie Dennis strangely. Especially was this the case when she heard her old acquaintance, Flossie, for out her soul's longings. It happened, so strange are the customs of Christians, that though this was the daughter of a minister of the gospel, herself a Christian, she had never before heard a lady pray in the presence of gentlemen. She had heard of their doing so, heard them criticized with sharp sarcasm. Some of the criticisms which had sounded full of keenness and wit when she heard them, recurred to her at this time, and some way with Flossie's low earnest voice filling her heart, they dwindled into shallowness and coarseness. All the same their baneful influence was on her, and helped to hold her back from opening her lips, for the critic had been Professor Ellis. When the hostess and her young guest were left alone together that evening, the latter had a question to ask. Flossie Shipley, the name you will remember, which she always went back to when excited. I didn't know you believed in praying in public. Have you changed in everything? In public, my dear, with a quiet smile, why I am in my own house. Oh yes, but you know what I mean. Before gentlemen, do you really think it is necessary? As to that, Gracie, I don't believe I thought anything about it. I wanted to pray for those boys, and so I prayed. And didn't you really shrink from it at all? How very queer! Flossie, I do believe nobody was ever so much changed by religion as you have been. I don't see what makes the difference. I'm sure I think I am a Christian, but I could never do such a thing as that. Not if you believed it to be your duty. But I don't believe it, said the fair logician, her face flushing. I think it is out of place. I beg your pardon, Flossie. I don't mean I think it sounded badly in you, but only that for me it would be horrid and I couldn't do it. Then what are you talking about, my dear? If you should never consider it your duty, you would certainly never be called upon to do it. CHAPTER XXV This very calm view of the question gave Gracie time to recover from her excitement and to laugh at her folly. Then Mrs. Robert said, still speaking very gently, I don't want to argue with you, dear, and I couldn't if I wished. You know I am a dunce about all such things. But I just want to ask you a little question you need not answer me unless you choose. Not now, that is, perhaps sometime we may want to talk about it. I would like to know the reasons that people have for thinking that it is out of place for a lady to kneel down with her Christian friends and speak to Jesus about a thing that they unitedly desire and that they believe he is able to do for them. If it is not proper to speak before them, why is it proper to speak to them on the same subject? This question Gracie carried to her room for thought. Meantime, as Dr. Everett and young Reed went homeward, they had a talk together. When I found out that those boys had gone to the theatre tonight, I was completely discouraged, declared Reed. It seemed to me that our work was a failure. I could almost see Satan laughing over the success of his scheme. I never felt so about anything in my life. And now it seems to me that perhaps the Lord will let it result in being the best thing that ever happened to us. To all of which Dr. Everett made the apparently irrelevant answer, Mr. Roberts and his wife are singularly well mated. How perfectly they fit into each other's thoughts. Reed, you and I have a great deal to learn from them. I have, said Reed Meekley. Yet another bit of talk closed this evening. McCollum has given me an idea, Mr. Roberts said to his wife as they sat together reviewing the day. Not a bad one, I fancy. I wonder when we can act on it and watch results. There are tickets for other places besides theatres. Why couldn't we furnish them for some entertainment, lecture, or concert, or something of the sort that would be really helpful? The only difficulty is that there are few helpful places as yet within reach of their capacities. It takes an exceptional genius to hold such listeners. But his wife, her face aglow, clasped her hands in an ecstasy of delight. What a beautiful thought, she said, and how nice that it should come to you just now when there will be such a splendid opportunity to put it in practice. Why, don't you know? Gow next week fifty cent tickets on temperance, too. How grand! And, Evan, let us give them each two tickets. I want that Dirk Coulson to take his sister. Perhaps he will not, but then he may. One can never tell. Oh, Evan, won't it be nice? Ah, said Mr. Roberts, as usual you are ahead of me. I had not thought of the two tickets apiece. That is a suggestion for their manliness. Flossie will try it. Yet another bit of talk. They shambled down the stairs from the second-rate hall at a late hour that evening, those seven boys. Quiet for them, though the play had been exciting, and not remarkably moral, viewed from the standpoint of a Christian. After all, said Nimble Dick, raking a silence with speech, as though the subject of which he spoke had been under discussion among them. After all, it was rather sneaking to bolt and say nothing. I kind of wish we hadn't done it. That's what I told you all along, said Dirk Coulson, with even unusual sullenness. But you would go and do it, and we was fools enough to follow you. And I'll bet she had oysters or something. This from Jerry Tompkins. You have probably no idea how hungry he was at that moment. They was going to do something new tonight that their dentist girl told me so when I met her on the street yesterday. Something that we would like first-rate, she said, a brand new notion. This was Stephen Crowley's contribution to the general discomfort. Well, said Nimble Dick, and the sigh with which he spoke the word would have gone to Mrs. Robert's heart. I suppose it's all up now. I shouldn't wonder if we never got another bid. I wouldn't if I was them. I know that. And their old theater wasn't no great shakes, after all. We've been a pack of fools, and I don't mind owning it. Whereupon, having reached the corner, they separated and went glumly to their homes. And this is gratitude. What a pity Mr. McCollum, who had been smiling over his benevolence all the evening, could not have heard them. The weeks that followed this night were crowded with trifles on which hung important and far-reaching results. This is a very trite saying, I know. All weeks are crowded with eventful trifles. At least we in our blindness call them trifles, although we are constantly discovering their importance and being constantly astonished over them. Among other things, the seven boys became nine, having taken into their companionship two-choice spirits, apparently worse than themselves, and appeared at the south end mission with all the bravado that boys of their stamp are apt to put out when they feel somewhat ashamed of themselves. The consequence was that the trials which Mrs. Roberts had to endure from them, though a trifle less apparent to others, were not a wit less distressing than usual. But before the session was concluded they were treated to a sensation that held them in silent astonishment for nearly five minutes. Any person well acquainted with Alfred Reed could have told that he had a plan in view, and was trying to carry it in face of some opposition. He looked convinced, and Mr. Durant looked astonished and troubled. There was much low toned talk between them and some shaking of head. Apparently, however, Mr. Reed came off victor, for his brow cleared, and he presently made his way to Mrs. Roberts' side and said a few words, and must have been gratified by the sudden lighting up of her face and her eager. Oh, what a nice thought! Even if it fails apparently, it will not utterly, for the suggestion will help them. In the course of time the new idea came to the front. There was to be a festival or a social or an entertainment at the south end in the course of a few weeks, a sort of anniversary for the starting of the mission. Among other work that was in progress, the decoration of the room involving the hanging of pictures, banners, mottos, wreaths, etc., required some strong arms and willing hands. Committees were to be formed. Two weeks before, teachers had been appointed to prepare a list of committees. It felt a young Reed to appoint the committee on decoration. When he was called upon for his report, he came promptly forward like a man ready for action and commenced. A committee of four has been deemed amply sufficient for decoration, and I appoint for the purpose the following, Richard Bolton, Morris Burns, Miss Gracie Dennis, and Miss Annie Powell. The teachers who had been long at the mission looked from one to another with the bewildered air. Morris Burns they knew, a clear-eyed young Scotchman, with willing hands and feet ever ready to run of errands for all workers, a boy of nineteen or so whom everybody liked, warm-hearted, unselfish, and thoroughly trustworthy. Annie Powell was one of the older girls in Mr. Durant's Bible class, a sweet-faced, ladylike little factory girl who would work in with Morris Burns nicely. Miss Gracie Dennis was Mrs. Roberts' beautiful young friend. All the teachers knew her, and all thought it very kind in her to throw her strength and taste into the preparations as hardily as though she were one of them. But who was Richard Bolton? Nobody knew. Yet their knowledge of business etiquette told them that he was chairman of the decoration committee. Where was he? Not a teacher, certainly, for they were intimately acquainted with one another, and they knew no such name in the one Bible class made up of trustworthy helpers. Over in Mrs. Roberts' class, with the single exception of the teacher, there was equal ignorance. The nine boys had stopped their restless mischief to listen because there is a sort of fascination to boys in all the details of well-managed business. They liked to hear the appointments, but who Richard Bolton might be seemed not to occur to one of them. It is true that Jerry Tompkins nudged Nimble Dick in anything but a quiet way with his elbow and murmured, You've got a namesake it seem in this ear job. Yet no light dawned on them. Mr. Durant, who it is possible, has not appeared to you in a favorable light for the reason that he was being much perplexed by the entirely new methods being introduced among the boys, who had heretofore driven him to the very verge of desperation, was really a quick-witted man, and having succumbed to what he feared was a wild experiment, knew how to help carry it out properly. He came briskly to the front, Alfred's committee being the last on the list, and began his work. The chairman of these different committees will be kind enough to report to me as rapidly as possible the name and place of their first meeting for consultation, and I will make the announcements. Then he stepped to Mrs. Roberts' class. Bolton, he said, bending toward that astonished scam, and speaking as though this were an every day affair, you are chairman, I believe, of the decoration committee. Where and when will you have them meet? Imagine Nimble Dick's eyes. Nay, imagine the eyes and faces of the entire nine. It would have been a study for an artist. For a moment Nimble Dick was speechless, then he managed to burst forth with, What in thunder are you talking about? Your committee, said Mr. Durand, politely ignoring the manner of the questioner. You must call them together, you know, to plan your work. Where shall it be and when? I ain't got no committee, and I ain't got no place to meet nobody, and I don't know what in thunder you're after. Then came Mrs. Roberts to the rescue. Why, Mr. Bolton, you can meet at our society parlor, you know. It is the very place, and will be so convenient for Miss Dennis. What's to meet and what's to do, said Dick defiantly, I ain't going to meet nobody. Why, it is just to hang mottos and banners and trim the room for the anniversary. Of course you'll help. I would have the meeting arranged there by all means. Very well, said Mr. Durand, quickly, as though he had received the answer from the chairman himself. Now as to time, you ought to come together tomorrow evening if you could. There is a good deal to do. Mr. Bolton, couldn't you come up at six o'clock for once? Then you could get your work all done before the time for our social. I can arrange for Annie Powell to be there at that time, and Mr. Durand, doesn't Morris Burns work for you? Could he be present at six o'clock? Then I don't see but your meeting is nicely planned. You can be there at six, can't you, Mr. Bolton? I tell you I don't know nothing what you are talking about. Nimble Dick, who was rarely anything but good-natured, was surprised by the bewilderments of the situation into being almost as fierce as Dirk Coulson was habitually. The gaping amazement of his boon companions seemed to add to his irritation. But you will, said the teacher cheerily. It is an easy matter to explain. Ms. Dennis knows all about such things, and I'm going to help, though they haven't honored me with an appointment. At a sign from the lady, Mr. Durand stepped back to the platform and announced, the chairman of the Committee on Decoration desires me to say that his committee is called together tomorrow evening at the Young Men's Social Parlor's number 76 East 55th Street at six o'clock sharp, as the chairman has another engagement at seven. I had to coin a name for the place of meeting, he said to Mrs. Roberts afterwards. I beg your pardon if it was wrong, but Reed has been giving me glowing accounts of that room, and you said something about its being a social parlor, didn't you? It is a good name, said Mrs. Roberts. We have awkwardly called it the new room. I am glad it is christened. I will have some curtains hung through the center tomorrow to make parlors instead of parlor out of it. I can see how a second room can be made useful in several ways. Thus was the bewildering committee willed into existence, the chairman thereof being still so dumbfounded with his position that he did not rouse until the laughing boys by whom he was surrounded began to take in some of the fun of the situation and to assault him right and left with mock congratulations, ill-suppressed groans, hisses, and the like. Then he turned towards them with newborn dignity that would have fitted Dirk Coulson, and he said, if you fellows don't shut up and behave yourselves something like decent for the rest of the time, I'll chaw half a dozen of you into mincemeat as soon as we are out of this. CHAPTER XXI This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Esther Reid yet speaking by Pansy. CHAPTER XXI Had his experiment been too severe? Dr. Everett was driving rapidly through the city, at least as rapidly as the crowded character of the street would permit. He was out on professional duty and had just been congratulating himself that his regular calls were now made for the day, and unless something special intervened, he should have a couple of hours free for the alleys. That meant professional duty, too, and of a very hardest character, one would suppose, as it brought him in contact not only with sickness in some of its most repulsive forms, but with abject poverty as well, and too often with lonesome forms of sin. Yet he went about his work with a zest that his regular practice did not furnish. This was something done solely for Jesus' sake, and with an eye that was manifestly single to his glory. He had already selected his alley, and was planning how, when his horses were safely stabled, he could make a cross-cut to it, when his eyes were held by two persons who were ascending together the stairway that led to one of the public halls. His face darkened as he watched them. Apparently they were engrossed with each other, and took no notice of him, but there were reasons why he specially desired to keep them in view. A network of carriages and wagons, such as his common decrowded thoroughfares, blocked his path just then, and prolonged his opportunity to watch the two. They made their way in a very leisurely manner up the long staircase, letting others, more in haste, pass them continually. Yet presently they joined the group who were passing up tickets of entrance. The doctor signaled a policeman and entered into conversation. What is going on in Selser Hall? Well, sir, there's a kind of a concert, I guess. They play on goblets, they say, just common glass goblets, and make fine music. And afternoon entertainment? Yes, sir, as a kind of introduction, you know, they expect to get a crowd for evening by the means. Do you know where tickets are to be had? The policeman indicated a bookstore at his left by a gesture from his thumb and said, right here, and offered to secure some at once. He knew of Dr. Everett many of the policemen did. His offer was accepted with thanks, and the doctor presently wound his way out from the network with two green tickets in his pocket. His plans for the afternoon had been suddenly changed. Instead of spending the time in Seawall Alley, he had decided to attend a musical exhibition, the instruments being goblets. He must make all speed now, so he left the crowded street and dodged through several byways to the stables. No use to keep his horses. She would be afraid to drive through such crowds, he explained to himself, and I should be afraid to leave the carriage standing. Rushing out from the stables, he caught just the right streetcar, and in a short space of time was ringing at Mr. Robert's door. Gracie Dennis was in the hall, dressed for the street. Ah, said the doctor, I am either fortunate or unfortunate. I wonder which. I had set my heart on having you for a companion to what I fancy may be a unique entertainment. Is there another engagement in the way? I know this is a most unconventional method, but a doctor is never sure of his time. But Gracie Dennis felt too well acquainted with Dr. Everett, and was too young and ready for enjoyment to be disturbed about conventionality. She merrily declared her willingness to be taken to whatever entertainment the doctor had to propose. Mrs. Roberts was out with her husband on business connected with Church Matters, and she had only intended to walk a square or two for her health. On the way the doctor was distrae, Gracie having most of the talking to do herself. The truth was he was trying to recall the faces of the people he had seen crowding into the hall to make sure that he was not taking Gracie among people whom he would not care to have her meet. Apparently the couple whose movements had changed all his afternoon plans were not a sufficient guarantee of respectability. However his face cleared as he recalled one and another as being in the crowd seeking admission. They might not be of the class with whom Gracie was accustomed to mingle, but they were respectable people. Gracie was in a merry mood. She understood enough of the doctor's busy life to feel sure that the sudden resolve to be entertained was quite out of his ordinary line, and that of itself served to mark the hour as exceptional. He feels the need of a little everyday fun, she told herself, and I'll help him to have it if I can. Poor man, it must be doleful to go among sick and dying people all the time. They were late at the hall. The concert was well under way, but there were plenty of vacant seats. Dr. Everett swept his eye over the room, then indicated to the usher just which seat he would have. It was one which commanded a view of the young man and woman who seemed to have such a mysterious influence over his plans. He was relieved to find quite early in the entertainment that it really was unique, and in its way well worth hearing. Had the surroundings been agreeable he could easily have given himself up to enjoyment. However they had been seated but a few moments when he saw by Gracie's startled eyes that she had seen and recognized at least one of the couple at their left. Professor Ellis in his usual faultless attire, launched gracefully on the seat in such a manner that his side face was distinct. He rested a well shaped arm on the back of the seat next to him, and his delicately gloved hand almost, if not quite, touched the shoulder of his companion. Both he and the lady at his side gave extremely little attention to the entertainment in progress. Apparently they had come thither for purposes of conversation. They kept up a continuous murmur of talk, interspersed at intervals with rippling laughter, and really seemed so entirely absorbed in each other as to have at times forgotten that the hall was public and that the attention of many was being turned toward them. The girl was pretty, extremely so, with an entirely different style of beauty from Gracie Dennis, and a certain indescribable something in her face and manner would have told even the most casual observer that she moved in a different circle. It was not her dress, unless that was a little too pronounced for the place and hour, but quite young ladies in good society sometimes make a similar mistake. Neither was her manner objectionable to the degree that you could have pointed to any one thing as offensive, yet you would have been sure, had you watched her, that she was out of the pale of what we call society. Gracie Dennis watched her with a kind of fascination, becoming at last so absorbed with the watching and the apparently troubled thoughts which grew out of it that she gave but slight attention to Dr. Everett's occasional remarks, nor seemed to observe that at last he lapsed into total silence. Once during the hour the young woman glanced casually in their direction and the careless nod and free and easy smile which she acknowledged Dr. Everett's presence drew a startled glance from Gracie to rest on him for a moment. Now I wish I had my horses, the doctor said, as at last they made their way down the aisle. I have a mile's drive uptown to take and I think the exercise might be good for you. Gracie codded the suggestion and begged to be allowed to remain in the bookstore below while he went for the horses. I want a ride and I want to talk with you, she said simply. As this was precisely what he wanted he went for the horses without more delay. Meantime Gracie in one of the windows of the bookstore was supposed to be employed in examining a late book but in reality gave much attention to the couple who were crossing the street or rather waiting for the opportunity to do so. They seemed in no haste but were conspicuous even in the crowded street for their interest in each other. More than one policeman regarded them narrowly as Professor Ellis stood with head bent toward the lady engaged in eager and animated conversation. It was just the attitude of absorbed interest with which he had so often listened to Gracie. Not on the street it is true but in some crowded parlor and it had flattered her. It made her frown today. They were starting now to make the disagreeable crossing. He had taken his companion's hand preparatory to a leap over a muddy curbing but Gracie could see that there was a pressure of it that was unnecessary and for the street peculiar. His face too was distinctly visible and the expression on it was what Gracie had seen before but certainly she supposed no other person had. All together it was probably well for Professor Ellis's peace of mind that he did not turn at that moment and get a glimpse of the young lady in the bookstore. Instead he took his lady away and they were lost in the crowd. Dr. Everett making all haste with his horses had still time for anxious thought. Had his experiment been too severe on Gracie was it possible that her interest in the man was such that this afternoon's experience had been mixed with pain as well as with disgust? He could not believe it possible that the pure-hearted young girl cared for such a man as Professor Ellis yet there had been a look on her face when she saw those two which startled and hurt him. When fairly seated in his carriage he did not speak until they had threaded the maze of wagons and reached clear ground. Even then he only said, now for speed, and gave the horses their desire until crowds and business were left behind and they were driving down a broad avenue lined on either side with stately yet quiet looking homes. Then he drew rain and obliged the horses to walk. He had by this time resolved on probing the wound if there was one. I wish I knew just how much of a villain that man is. These were the somewhat startling words which broke his silence. What man, yet the very tones of Gracie's voice indicated that she knew of whom he was speaking. That man Ellis, Professor, I think he is called. I have reason to be very suspicious of him. By the way, Miss Gracie, I think he is an acquaintance of yours. Have you confidence in him? How promptly and indignantly such a question would have received an affirmative answer two months before. What should she say now? In what respect, she faltered more for the purpose of gaining time than because she did not understand the question. Well, in any respect I am almost prepared to say. I have not the honor of the man's acquaintance, but whatever I hear about him or see in him I dislike and distrust. Just at present his ways are especially disturbing. You noticed him this afternoon, I think. The young girl in his company belongs to my Sabbath school. I have a deep interest in her, partly because she is the sort of girl who is always more or less in danger in this wicked world, and partly because she is capable of strongly influencing another who is a special protégé of mine. Who is the girl? Gracie's manner was abrupt and her voice constrained. It was evident that she was making a great effort to control herself and appear indifferent to all parties. The doctor took no notice of her constraint. Her name is Mason, Hester Mason. She attends the Packard Place Sabbath school, which you know I super intend. She is motherless and worse than fatherless, is a clerk in one of the Fourth Avenue stores, and is or was inclined to be what is called gay. I do not know that that term conveys any special meaning to you. In young men I think they call the same line of conduct fast. I hope and believe that you would not well understand either term, yet I think possibly that watching her this afternoon in a public hall will give you some conception of the stretch that there is between yourself and her.