 Chapter 24. Loneliness I suppose there has never been an earnest worker, an enthusiast on any subject, in this changeful world, but has been a victim at some time to the dismountness of a reaction. The most forlorn little victim that could be imagined was Flossy Shipley, on that evening after the meetings, on which her soul had fed so long, were closed. Everything in nature and in circumstances conspired to sink her into her desolate mood. In the first place it was raining. Now a rain closing in upon a warm and dusty summer day is a positive delight. One can listen to the pattering drops with a sense of eager satisfaction, but a rain in midwinter, after a day of sunless mist and fog almost amounting to rain, when the streets are at that mixture of snow and water that can be known only as slush, when every opening of a door sends in gusts of damp air that chill to one's very bones. This weather is a trial. At least it seemed such to poor little Flossy. She shivered over the fire in the cold grate. It glowed brightly, and the room was warm and bright, yet to Flossy there was a sense of chill in everything. She was all alone, and the circumstances connected with that loneliness were not calculated to brighten the evening for her. The entire family had gone out to a party, not one of those quiet little entertainments which people had been so careful to explain and apologize for during the meetings, but a grand display of toilet and supper and expenditure of all kinds. Mrs. Westervelt, the hostess, being at all times noted for the display of her entertainments, had lavished more than the usual amount of time and money on the present ones, and waited for the meetings to close with the most exemplary patients in order that she might gain a very few among her guests from those who felt the impropriety of mixing things too much. To be sure, the society in general which was admitted to Mrs. Westervelt's parlors was not from that class who had any scruples as to what time they attended parties, but there were two or three notable exceptions, and those the lady had been anxious to claim. Prominent among them had been the Urskins, it never seemed to occur to Mrs. Westervelt's brains that there could be other excuse found for not accepting her invitation, save the meetings that Ruth had taken to attending in such a frantic manner. Let me say in passing that neither Ruth Urskine nor her father honored the invitation they had other matters to attend to. Meantime Flossie Shipley had utterly disgusted her mother and almost offended her father by giving a peremptory and persistent refusal. Such a storm of talk as there had been over this matter almost exhausted the strength of poor little Flossie who did not like argument and who yet could persist in a most unaccountable firm manner when occasion required. Such an absurd idea, her sister Kitty said, flashing contemptuous eyes on her. I wonder what you think is going to become of you, Flossie. Do you mean to mope at home all the rest of the winter? I assure you that Mrs. Westervelt is not the only one who intends to give a party. We are going to have an unusually gay season to revive us after so much bell tolling. Don't you mean to appear anywhere? You might as well retire into a convent at once if that is the case. People will be saying of me as they do of Mrs. Treslem soon that I do not allow you to appear in society while Kitty is still a young lady. This Mrs. Shipley said, and her tone, if not as sharp as Kitty's, had a note of grievance in it that was hard to bear. Then Charlie had taken up the theme. What is the use in turning mope, sis? I am sure you can be as good as you like and go to a party occasionally. I don't mean to mope, Charlie, Flossie said, trying to speak cheerfully, but there were tears in her eyes and a tremulous sound in her voice. I am truly happier at home than I am at those places. I don't like to go. It is not entirely because I feel I ought not. It is because I don't want to. She has risen above such follies, Kitty said, and it is impossible to tell you what a disagreeable inflection there was to her voice. Mother, I am sorry that the poor child has to associate with such volatile creatures as you and I. She ought to have some kindred spirit. I am sure I don't know where she will find any, Mrs. Shipley said with a sigh. Outside of that trio of girls, who among them have contrived to make a perfect little slave of you, I am sure I don't know who has any influence over you. I used to think you regarded your mother's wish as a trifle, but I find I am mistaken. Oh, mother, Flossie said, and this time the tears began to fall. Why will you talk so? I am sure I tried to please you in every way that I can. I did not know that you cared to have me go to parties unless I wanted to go. Either the tears or something else made her brother indignant. What a scene about nothing, he said irritably. Why can't you let Flossie go to parties or not as she pleases? Parties are not such delightful institutions that she need be expected to be in love with them. I should be delighted if I never had to appear at another. Why not let people have their fun in this world where they choose to find it? If Flossie has lately discovered that hers can only be found in prayer meeting, I am sure it is a harmless enough diversion while the fit lasts. Mrs. Shipley laughed. Her son could nearly always put her into good humor. Besides, she didn't like to see tears on her baby's face. That was her pet name for Flossie. Oh, I don't know that it makes any serious difference, she said. Not enough to spoil your eyes over, Flossie. I don't want you to go out with us unless you want to. Only it is rather embarrassing to be constantly arranging regrets for you. Besides, I don't see what it is all coming to. You will be a moping forsaken creature, old before your time, if this continues. As for Mr. Shipley, he maintained a haughty silence, neither expressing an opinion on that subject nor on any other, which would involve him in a conversation with Flossie. She knew that he was more seriously displeased with her than were any of the others, not so much about the parties as about other and graver matters. Colonel Baker was the son of Mr. Shipley's old friend. For this reason and for several others, Mr. Shipley was very fond of him. It had long been in accordance with his plans that Flossie should become, at some future time, Mrs. Colonel Baker, and that the estates of the two families should be thus united. While he was not at all the sort of man who would have interfered to push such an arrangement against the preferences of the parties concerned, he had looked on with great and increasing satisfaction while the plans of the young people evidently tended strongly in that direction. But his daughter, after an absence from home of only two weeks, should have come in contact with that which seemed to change all her tastes and views and plans in regard to other matters, but which had actually caused her to turn with a steady and increasing determination away from the friend who had been her acknowledged protector and attendant ever since she was a child, was a matter that he did not understand nor approve. I am not a tyrant, he would say sullenly, when Mrs. Shipley and himself talked the matter over, when she, with the characteristics of a mother, even while her child annoyed and vexed her, yet struggled to speak a word for her when a third person came in to blame. I never ordered Flossie to be so exceedingly intimate with Colonel Baker that their names have been coupled together ever since she was a baby. I never insisted on her accepting his attentions on all occasions. It was her own free will. I owned that I was pleased with the inclination she displayed, and did what I could to make the way pleasant for her, but the thing is not of my planning. What I am displeased with is this sudden change. There is no reason for it and no sense in it. It is just a mere baby performance, a girlish freak, very unpleasant for him and very disagreeable for us, the child ought not to be upheld in it. So they did their best not to uphold her and succeeded among them in making her life very disagreeable to her. The matter had culminated on the evening before the party in question. Colonel Baker, despite the persistent and patient efforts on Flossie's part to show him the folly of his course, had insisted on obliging her to speak a decided negative to his earnestly pressed question. The result was an unusually unpleasant domestic scene and a general air of gloom and unhappiness. Mr. Shippley had not ordered his daughter to marry Colonel Baker. He would have been shocked beyond measure at such a proceeding on the part of a father, but he made her so unhappy with a sense of his disappointment and disapproval that more than once she sighed wearily and wished in her sad little heart that all this living was over. Finally they all went off to Mrs. Westervelt's party and left her alone. She had never felt so much alone in her life. The blessed meetings which had been such a wealth of delight and helpfulness to her heart were closed. The sweet and holy and elevating influences that had surrounded her outer life for so long were withdrawn. She missed them bitterly. It almost seemed to her as if everything were withdrawn from her. Father and mother, sister, and even her warm-hearted brother were all more or less annoyed at her course. Charlie had been betrayed into more positive sharpness than his favorite sister had ever felt from him before. He felt that his friend Colonel Baker had been ill-treated. There was a very sore spot about this matter for Flossie. The truth was she could not help seeing that in a sense her father was right. She had brought it on herself. Not lately, not since her utter change of views and aims, but long before that. With what satisfaction had she allowed her name to be coupled familiarly with that of Colonel Baker? How much she had enjoyed his exclusive attentions. Not that she really and heartily liked him with the liking that made her willing to think of him as belonging to her forever. She had chosen, rather, not to allow herself to think of any such time. She had contented herself with saying that she was too young to think of such things, that she was not obliged to settle that question till the time came. But, mind you, all the time she chose to allow and enjoy and encouraged by her smiles and her evident pleasure in them very special attentions that gave other people liberty to speak of them almost as one. To call it by a very plain name which Flossie hated and which made her cheek glow as she forced herself to say it of herself, she had been flirting with Colonel Baker. It wasn't a nice word. I don't wonder that she hated it. Yet so long as young ladies continued to be guilty of the sort of conduct that can only be described by that unpleasant and coarse-sounding word, I am afraid it will be used. All that was over now. At least it was over as much as Flossie could make it. But there remained an uncomfortable sense that she had wronged a man who honestly loved her. Not intentionally, no decent woman does that. But thoughtlessly, so many silly girls do that. She had lost her influence over him now. Rather, she had been obliged to put herself in a position to lose all influence. She might have been his true, faithful friend now and helped him up to a higher manhood, only by her former folly she had put it out of her power. These were not pleasant reflections. Then there was no denying that she felt very desolate. A forlorn, friendless creature, her mother had said she would be calm or words to that effect. The thought lingered with her. She looked over her list of friends. There was always those three girls growing dearer by every day of association, yet their lives necessarily ran much apart. It would naturally grow more and more so as the future came to them. Then, too, she was equally intimate with each of them. They were all equally dear to her. Now a woman cannot have three friends who shall all fill that one place in her heart which she finds. She thought of her home ties, strong as they certainly were, growing stronger every day. There were few things that she did not feel willing to do for her father. But the one thing that he wanted just now was that she should marry Colonel Baker. She could not do that even to please him. He would recover from that state of feeling, of course, but would not other kindred states of feeling constantly arise, both with him and with her mother? Could she not foresee a constant difference of opinion on almost every imaginable topic? Then there was her sister Kitty. Could any two lives run more widely apart than hers and Kitty's were likely to? Had they a single taste in common? As for Charlie, Flessy turned from that subject. It was too sore and too tender a spot to be probed. She troubled for Charlie. He was walking in slippery places. The descent was growing easier. She felt that rather than side. And she felt, too, that his friend Colonel Baker was the leader. And she felt, too, that her intimacy with Colonel Baker had greatly strengthened his. No wonder that the spot was a sore one. Grouping all these things together and brooding over them, with no sound breaking the silence saved the ceaseless drip of the rain and the whirls of defiant wind, sitting there in her loneliness, the large armchair in which she crouched being drawn up before that glowing fire. Is it any wonder that the firelight revealed the fact that great silent tears were slowly following each other down Flessy's round, smooth cheek? She felt like a pitiful, lonely, forsaken baby. It was not that she was utterly miserable. She recognized even then the thought that she had an almighty, everlasting, unchanging friend. She rejoiced even then at the thought, not as she might have rejoiced, not as it was her privilege to do, but I mean she knew that all these trials and mistakes and burdens were but for a moment. She knew that tomorrow, when the sun shone again, she would be able to come out from behind these clouds and grasp some of the brightness of her life and endure with patience the little annoyances that were to be born, remembering that she was still very young and that there was a chance for a great deal of brightness for her even on this side. But in the meantime, her intensely human heart craved human companionship and sympathy, craved it to such a degree that if it had not been for the rain in the darkness and the growing lateness of the hour, she would have gone out then after one of those three girls to share her mood with her. Into the midst of this state of dismal journeying into the valley of gloom there peeled the sound of the bell. It did not startle her, the collars in their circle would be sure to be engaged at the party and to suppose that she was. Besides, it was hardly an evening for ordinary collars, something as important as a party was, would be expected to call out people to-night. It was someone with a business message for father, she presumed, and she did not arouse from her curled-up position among the cushions of that great chair. Half listening, half giving attention to her own thoughts, she was conscious that a servant came to answer the bell, that the front door opened and shut, that there was a question asked and answered in the hall. Then she gave over attending to the matter. If she were needed, the girl knew she was in the library. Yes, she was to be summoned for something to receive the message probably for the library door quietly unclosed. What is it, Katie? She asked, in a sort of muffled undertone, to hide the traces of disturbance in her voice and not turning her head in that direction. She knew there were tears on her cheeks. Suppose it should not be Katie. May anyone else come in and tell you what it is? This was the sentence wherewith she was answered. What a sudden springing up there was from that chair. Even the tears were forgotten. And what a singular ring there was to Flossie's voice as she whirled round to full view of the intruder and said, Oh, Mr. Roberts! Now, dear friends of this little lonely Flossie, are you so stupid that you need to be told that in less than half an hour from that moment, she believed that there could never again come to her an absolutely lonely hour that whatever might come between them, whether of life or of death, there would be that for each to remember that would make it impossible ever to be desolate again. For there is no desolation of heart to those who part at night to meet again in the morning. There may be loneliness and a reaching out after, and sometimes an unutterable longing for the morning. But to those who are sure, sure be on the possibility of a doubt that the eternal morning will dawn and dawn for them, there is never again a desolation. End of Chapter 24. Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 25. Of the Chautauqua Girls at Home. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Chautauqua Girls at Home by Pansy. Chapter 25. The Added Name. That same evening was fraught with memorable associations to others beside Flossie Shipley. It began in gloom and unusual depression even to bright-faced Marian. The day had been a hard one in school. Those of the scholars who had been constant attendants at the meetings felt the inevitable sense of loneliness and loss that must follow the close of such unusual means of help. I have actually heard some Christian people advance this fact that there was a reaction of loneliness after such meetings closed as a good reason why they were unwise efforts, demoralizing in their results. It is a curious fact that such reasoners are never found to advocate the entire separation of family friends on the plea that a reunion followed by a separation is demoralizing in its results because it leaves an added sense of loneliness. It is perhaps to be questioned whether loneliness is, after all, demoralizing in its effects, be that as it may, many of the scholars felt it. Then there were some among their number who had persistently shunned the meetings and their influences, who, now that the opportunity was passed, felt those stings of conscience that are sure to follow enlightened minds who have persisted in going a wrong road. Also, there were those who had been almost persuaded and who yet, so far as their salvation was concerned, were no nearer it that day than though they had never thought of the matter for almost never saves a soul. All these influences combined served to make depression the predominant feeling. Marion struggled with it and tried to be cheerful before her pupils, but sank into gravity and unusual sadness at every interval between the busy hours of the day. Late in the afternoon she had a conversation with one of the girls which did not serve to encourage her heart. It was the drawing hour. Large numbers of the young ladies in her room had gone to the studio with the drawing master. Those who remained were engaged in copying their exercises for the next morning's class. Marion was at leisure, her only duty being to render assistance in the matter of copying whenever a raised hand indicated that help was needed. Answering one of these calls she found herself at the extreme end of the large room, quite near to Gracie Dennis's desk, and in passing she noticed that Gracie, while her book was before her and her pen in hand, was not writing at all, but that her left hand was shading a face that looked sad and pale and covering eyes that might have tears in them. After fulfilling her duty to the needy scholar she turned back to Gracie. What is it? She said softly, taking the vacant seat by Gracie's side and touching tenderly the crown of hair that covered the drooping head. Gracie looked up quickly with a gleam of sunshine through which shone a tear. It is a fit of the blues I am almost afraid. I am very much ashamed of myself. I don't feel so very often, Miss Wilbur. I think the feeling must be what the girls call blues. I'm not sure. Do you feel in any degree sure what has caused such a remarkable disease to attack you? Marion asked in a low, tender, yet cheery and half-amused tone. The words made Gracie laugh, but the tenderness in the tone seemed to start another tear. You will be amused at me, Miss Wilbur, or ashamed of me I don't know which. I am ashamed of myself, but I do feel so forlorn and lonely. Lonely, Marion echoed with a little start, she realized that she herself knew in its fullness what that feeling was, but for Gracie Dennis, treasured as she was in an atmosphere of fatherly love, it was hard to understand it. If I had my dear father, I don't think I should feel lonely, she said gently. I know, Grace answered. He is the dearest father a girl ever had, but there is only a little bit of him mine, Miss Wilbur. I don't mean that either. I am not selfish. I know he loves me with all his heart, but I mean his time is so very much occupied that he can only give me very little bits now and then. It has to be so. It is not his fault. I would not have him any different even in this, but then if I had a sister, don't you see how different it would be, or even a brother, or— and here Gracie's head dropped low and her voice quivered. Miss Wilbur, if I had a mother, one who loved me, and would sympathize with me and help me, I think I would be the happiest girl in all the world. There was every appearance that, with a few more words of tender sympathy, this young girl would lose all herself control and be that which she so much shrank from, an object of general wonderment and conversation. Mary and felt that she must bestow her sympathy sparingly. I dare say you would give yourself over to a hearty struggle not to hate her outright, she said in a quiet matter of fact tone. The sobs which were shaking the young girl beside her were suddenly checked. Presently Gracie looked up, a gleam half of mirth, half of defiance in her handsome eyes. I mean a real mother, she said. Haven't you one? Doesn't she love her darling and watch over and wait for her coming? The voice had taken on its tenderness again, then after a moment Mary and added, it is hard to realize I know but I believe it and I look toward that thought with all my soul. You remember Gracie that I have nothing but that to feed on, no earthly friend to help me realize it. Gracie stole a soft hand to her teachers. I wish you would love me very much, she said brightly. I wish you would let me love you. Do you know you help me every time you speak to me and you do it in such strange ways, not at all in the direction that I am looking for help? I do thank you so much. Then suppose you prove it to me by showing what an immaculate copy of your exercise you can hand in tomorrow. Don't you know it is by just such commonplace matters as that, that people are permitted to show their love and gratitude and all those delightful things? That is what glorifies work. Another clinging pressure of hands and teacher and pupil went about their duties. But though Marion had helped Gracie she had not helped herself except that in a tired sort of way she realized that it was a great pleasure to be able to help anybody. Most of all this favorite pupil. Still the dreariness did not lessen. It went home with her to her dingy boarding house, followed her to the gloomy dining room and the uninviting supper table. The most that was the trouble with Marion Wilbur was that she was tired in body and brain. If people only realized it a great many mental troubles and trials result from overworked bodies and nerves. Still it must be confessed that there were few if any outside influences that were calculated to cheer Marion Wilbur's life. You are to remember how very much alone she was. There were no letters to be watched for in the daily males. No hopeful looking forward if one failed to come. No cheery saying to one's heart, never mind it will surely come tomorrow. This state is infinitely better than the hopeless glance one bestows upon the postman realizing he is nothing to them. No friends father and mother gone so long ago. That of one there was no recollection at all. Of the other tender childhood memories, sweet and lasting and incomparably precious but only memories. No sister, no brother, no cousins that had taken the place to her of sisters. Only that old uncle and aunt who were such state and common and plotting people that sometimes the very thought of them tired this girl so full of life and energy. Girl I call her but she had passed the days of her girlhood. Few knew it. It was wonderful how young and fresh her heart had kept. That being the case, of course her face had taken the same impress. It was hard for Ruth Erskine to realize that her friend Marion was really 13 years older than herself. There were times when Marion herself felt younger than Ruth did. But the years were there and in her times of depression Marion realized it. So many of them recorded and yet no friends to whom she had a right feeling sure that nothing in human experience this side of death would be likely to come in and take her away from them. The very supper table at that boarding house was sufficient to add to her sense of desolation. It is a pitiful fact that we are such dependent creatures that even the crooked laying of a cloth and the coffee stains and milk stains and gravy stains thereon can add to our sense of desolation. Then what is there particularly consoling or cheering in a cup of weak tea and a bit of bread a trifle sour spread over by butter more than a trifle strong even though it has helped down by some very dry bits of chipped beef. This was Marion's supper. The borders were some of them cross some of them simply silent and hurried all of them damp for they were every one workers out in the damp dreary world and most of them in fact I may say all of them were very tired yet many of them had worked to do that very evening. Marion ate her supper in silence too. At least she bid at her bread and tried to swallow her simpering tea. When her heart was bright and her plans for the evening definite and satisfactory she could manage the sour bread and strong butter even with something like a relish. But there was no use in trying them tonight. She even tormented herself with the planning of a dainty supper accompanied by exquisite table arrangements such as she would manage for a sister say if she had one a sister who had been in school all day and was wet and hungry and tired if she had the room and the table and the china and the materials out of which to construct the supper. She was reasonable enough to see that there were many ifs in the way but the picture would not make the present supper relish. She struggled to rally her weary powers. She asked the clerk next to her if it had been a busy day and she told the sewing girl at her left about a lovely bouquet of flowers that one of the girls brought to school and that she had meant to bring home with her if it was presented to be sure it was not but the intention was the same and the heart of the sewing girl was cheered. Finally the woman gave over trying to swallow her supper and assuring herself with the determination to go early to bed and so escape faintness she went up three flights of stairs to her room. When I am rich and a woman of leisure I will build a house that shall have pleasant rooms and good bread and butter and I will board school teachers and sewing girls and clerks for a song. This she said aloud. Then she said about making a bit of a face or a great deal of smoke in the little imp of a stove. The stove was small and cracked and rusty and could smoke like a furnace. What a contrast to the glowing coal grate where Flossie at this hour toasted her pretty cheeks. Yet Marion in her way was less dismal than Flossie in hers. It was not in Marion's nature to shed any tears. Instead she hummed a few notes of a glorious old tune in the umphant in every note trying this to rob herself of bloom and cheat herself into the belief that she was not very lonely and that her life did not stretch out before her as a desolate thing. She did not mean to give herself up to blooming though she did hover over the little stove and lean her cheek on her hand and look at nothing in particular for a few minutes. What she said when she rallied from the silence was simply the smoke you can make to be sure, Marion Wilbur, when you try. Hardly anyone can compete with you in that line at least. Then she drew her school reports toward her intending to make them out for the week thus far but she scribbled on the fly leaf with her pencil instead. She wrote her own name Marion J. Wilbur, a pretty enough name. She smiled tenderly over the initial of J. Nobody knew what it was for. Suppose the girls knew that it stood for Josiah, her father's name, that he had named her after her mother was buried, Marion, that after the mother, Josiah, that after the father, Wilbur, the dear name that belonged to them both, in this way fancying in his gentle heart, that he linked this child to them both in a way that would be dear to her to remember. It was dear. She loved him for it. She thoroughly understood the feeling, but hardly anyone else would. So she thought she had never given them a chance to smile over the queer name her father had given. She could smile herself, but she wanted no one else to do so. Then she wrote Grace L. Dennis. What a pretty name it was. She knew what the L was for. Lawrence, the family name, Grace's mother's name. Her mother, too, had died when she was a wee baby. Gracie remembered her, though, and by that memory so much more did she miss her. Marion knew how that was by her remembrance of her father. All the same she would not have that blotted out by so much richer was Gracie than herself and then that living, loving father. Marion smiled over the folly of Grace Dennis considering her life a lonely one. Yet I presume she feels it, poor darling. She said aloud and with a sigh. It was true that every heart knew its own bitterness. Then she said, I really must go to work at these reports. I wonder what the girls are doing this evening. Yuri is nursing her mother, I suppose. Blessed Yuri, mother and father, both within the fold, brought there by Yuri's faithful life. Mrs. Mitchell told me so herself. What a sparkle that will make this crown. I wonder what Ruth meant this morning. Poor child, she has trouble, too, different from mine. Why, as to that, I really haven't any. Ruth ought to count her Marcy's, though, as old Dina says. She has a great deal that I haven't. Yes, indeed she has. I suppose little Flossie is going through tribulation over that tiresome party. I wonder why one half of the world have to exist by tormenting the other half. Now, Mary and Wilbur, stop scribbling names and go to work. Steady scratching from the old steel pen a few minutes, then a knock and a message, Dr. Dennis wanted to see her a few minutes if she had leisure. Dr. Dennis, she said, rising quickly and pushing away her papers. Oh, dear me, where is that class book of mine? He wants those names, I dare say, and I haven't them ready. I might have been copying them while I was mooting my time away here. The first words she said to him as she went down to the stuffy boarding-house parlor were, I haven't them ready Dr. Dennis. I'm real sorry, and it's my fault, too. I had time to copy them, and I just didn't do it. I haven't come for them, he said, smiling and holding out his hand. How do you do? Oh, quite well. Didn't you come for them? I am glad for I felt ashamed. Dr. Dennis, don't you see how well one woman can do the work of twenty? Don't you like the way the primary class is managed? Oh, by the way, you want that book, don't you? I meant to send it home by Gracie. I don't want it, he said, laughing this time. Are you resolved that I may not call on you without a good and tangible reason? If that be the case, I certainly have one. I want you to sit down here while I tell you all about it. I'm not in the mood for a scolding, she said, trying to speak gaily, though there was a curious little tremble to her voice. I have been away down in the valley of gloom today. I believe I am a little demoralized. Dr. Dennis, I think I need a prayer meeting every evening. I could be happier then, I know. A Christian ought to be able to have one, he said quickly. Two souls ought to be able to come together in communion with the Master every evening. There is a great deal of wasted happiness in this world. I want to talk to you about that very thing. Dr. Dennis was not given to making long calls on his parishioners. There were too many of them, and he had too little time. But he made an unprecedentedly long one on Marion Wilbur. When she went back to her room that night, the fire was gone out entirely, not even a smoke remained. She lighted her little smoky lamp, there was no gas on the third story, and looked at her watch with an amazed air. She had not imagined that it could be nearly eleven o'clock. Then she pushed the reports into a drawer and turned the key. No use to attempt reports for that evening. As she picked up her class book the scribbling on the fly-leaf caught her eye again. She smiled a rare, rich, happy smile. Then swiftly she drew her pencil and added one more name to the line. Marion Wilbur, Marion J. Wilbur, it read. There was just room on the line for another word. Then it read, Marion J. Wilbur Dennis. To be sure, she took her rubber quickly from her pocket and obliterated every trace of that last. But what of it? There are words and deeds that can not so easily be obliterated. And Marion, as she laid her grateful head on her fluffy little pillow that night, was thankful it was so and felt no desire to erase them. Dessal it, not she. God was very gracious. The brightness that she felt sure she could throw around some lives she knew would have a reflex brightness for her. Then querily enough, the very next thing she thought of was that dainty supper she planned for herself that she would have prepared for a schoolteacher, wet, hungry, and tired. Why not for a schoolgirl? If she had no sister to do it for, why not for a daughter? Dear little Gracie, she said, then she went to sleep. Meantime, during that eventful evening, Ruth sat in her room alone, busy with grave and solemn thoughts. Her father was already many miles away. He had gone to see his wife and daughter. Yuri at that same hour was bending anxiously over a sick mother, trying to catch the feebly whispered direction with such a heavy, heavy pain at her heart. But the same patient, wise, all-powerful father, was watching over and directing the ways of each of his four girls. End of Chapter 25, Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 26. Learners Although the sense of desolation was gone from Flossie Shipley, she was not without something to be troubled over. As to that, when one sets out to be troubled, one can nearly always find an excuse. Flossie lay awake over hers for hours that night. Mr. Roberts was given to keeping more proper hours than those in which party-goers indulge. So it happened that the library was vacant when the family returned, the gas turned low, and the great carefully supplied with coal to give them a warm greeting. But the easy chairs before the bright fire told no tales of all the pleasant and helpful words that had been spoken there that evening. So far as the family knew, Flossie had spent her evening in solitude. But they would come to know it would have to be introduced to Mr. Roberts, there would have to be a prompt explanation of their interest in each other. Flossie meant to have no delays, nor chances for mistakes this time. The momentous question was, how would her father receive the message, what word would he have for the stranger? She could almost have wished that his coming had been delayed for a few weeks more, until the sore, sullen feeling over-disappointed plans had had time to quiet. But as it was, since Mr. Roberts was to be in the city and she was to see him, she would have no pretense of his being merely a chance acquaintance of her Chautauqua life making friendly calls. At least her father should know that they both meant more than that. Whether he would ignore the claims they made and choose to treat Mr. Roberts as a stranger, Flossie did not know. It seemed more than likely that he would. As to that, she could not help owning to herself that he would have very plausible reasons for so doing. What was she supposed to know about Mr. Evan Roberts? Closely questioned, she would have to admit that she never heard of his existence till those golden Chautauqua days, that although she walked and talked much with him during those two weeks, there had been so much to talk about, such vital interests that pressed upon them, so many things for her to learn, that they had spent no time at all in talking about each other's past. She remembered now that strangely enough she had no idea even at this moment what his business was, except that from some casual remark she judged that he was familiar with mercantile life. He might have some money, or he might be very poor, she had not the least idea which it was. He might be of an old and honored family, or his father might have been a blacksmith, and his mother even now a washerwoman. She admitted to herself that she knew nothing at all about it, and she was obliged also to admit that so far as she herself was concerned she did not care. But Mr. Shipley was very different, most assuredly he would care. How could he understand why she should be able to feel such perfect trust for this stranger? If she should try to tell him of those wonderful prayers that she had heard from Mr. Robert's lips, what would such evidence be to him? If she should try to tell him how by this man she had been led into the light of love and trust that glowed brighter and stronger with every day, how little information it would give him. What an utter mystery would such language be to him? As she thought of all these puzzling things, what wonder that she turned her pillow many times in search of a spot to rest, and gave a great many long-drawn sighs? It so happened that Mr. Roberts, while he had not troubled himself to enlighten Flossie as to his position in prospects, had by no means supposed that her father would be as indifferent to these small matters as she was. He had come armed with credentials and introductions, overwhelming ones they were to Mr. Shipley. He waited for no introductions nor explanations to come from Flossie. Instead, the very next morning, at the earliest hour that business etiquette would allow, he sought Mr. Shipley at his business office, presented his card and letters, and made known his desire to transact mercantile business with him in the name of his firm, and the rich man, Mr. Shipley, arose and bowed before him. Was he not a representative? Nay, a junior partner of the firm Bostwick-Smith Robertson Company, names world-renowned among mercantile men. Could human ambition reach higher than to have flattering offers of business from that great house, than to be actually set out by this young partner, singled from among all the merchant princes of the city, as the one to be taken into business confidence? Mr. Shipley's ambitious dreams reached no more dizzy height than this. Mr. Roberts was invited, urged to accept the hospitalities of his home, to make the acquaintance of his family, to command his horses, his carriage, his servants, in short, to become one of their family, so long as he could be prevailed upon to remain in the city. But Mr. Roberts had more communications to make. He frankly announced that he was already acquainted with his family, at least with that portion of it, which was of enough importance to include all the rest. Of course, he did not say this to the father, and yet his manner implied it, as he had meant it should. Mr. Roberts was frank by nature. He no more believed in concealments of any sort than did Flossie. Then and there he told the story that the two easy-chairs in the library knew about. He even apologized earnestly for seeking the daughter first. It had not been his intention. He had meant to call on the family, but they were absent, and he found Miss Flossie alone. And, well, if Mr. Shipley had been particular, as assuredly he would have been, if Mr. Roberts had been of the firm of Bostwick, Smythe, Roberts and Company, it might have been embarrassing to have explained the very precipitate result of his call. But as it was, Mr. Shipley was so amazed and so bewildered and so overwhelmed with delighted pride that he would almost have forgiven the announcement that Mr. Roberts was already his son-in-law without leave or license from him. As it was, all the caution had to be on Mr. Roberts' side. He asked that letters might be sent to his brother-in-law, Mr. Smythe, to his father, Mr. James Roberts, proving, not his financial standing, the unmistakable knowledge of the private affairs of the firm that had established him there, but of his moral character and his standing in the Christian world. Do you believe that Mr. Shipley felt the necessity? Not he. Had he not been willing, more than that, anxious that his daughter's fortune should be linked with Colonel Baker's? Did he not know what was Colonel Baker's standing in the moral and Christian world? After all, is it any wonder when there are such fathers that many daughters make shipwreck of their lives? As for Mr. Roberts, he was almost indignant. The man would actually sell her if by that means he would be recognized in business by our house. If it had been any other young man than himself who was in question, how his indignation would have blazed at such proceedings? But since it was himself, he decided to accept the situation. As for Flossie, she did not look at the matter in that light when she found that all the perplexities and clouds had been so suddenly and so strangely smoothed and cleared from before her way. She thought of those hours of wakeful anxiety that she had wasted the night before. And of how, finally, she had made her heart settle back on the watchful care and love of the father, who was so wise and so powerful, and in the quiet of her own room she smiled as she said aloud, Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass. How much pleasanter it would have been to have committed it in the first place before I wearied my heart with worrying over what I could not lift my finger to make different. So in less time than it has taken me to tell it, the rough places smoothed suddenly before Flossie's shipply's feet. She was free now to go to parties or to prayer meetings or to stay at home according to her own fancy, for was she not the promised wife of a partner of the firm of Bostwick, Smythe Roberts and Company? It transpired that Mr. Roberts had come to make a somewhat extended stay in the city to look after certain business affairs connected with the firm and also to look after certain business interests of the great master, whose work he labored at with untiring persistence, always placing it above all other plans and working at it with a zeal that showed his heart was there. Flossie during these days took great strides as a learner in Christian work. Among other things she was led into the mysteries of some of the great and systematic charities of the city and found what wonderful things God's wealth could do placed in the hands of careful and conscientious stewards. She had thought at first that it made no difference at all to her whether Mr. Roberts had to work for his daily bread or whether he had means at his disposal. But very early in her acquaintance with him she learned to thank God that great wealth had been placed in his hands and so was to be at her disposal and that she was learning how to use it. Some of her new experiences had their embarrassing side. Mr. Roberts had been but a few days in the city when he had certain protégés which circumstance had thrown in his way in whom he became deeply interested. One of these he engaged to take Flossie to visit. They are very poor, he had said to her, supposing that thereby he enlightened her. Now Flossie had small knowledge in that direction. There was a certain old lady living at the extreme east end who had once been a servant in her family and Flossie's nurse. In her Flossie was much interested and had been often to see her. She kept house in a bit of a room that was always shining with cleanliness. Her floor was covered with bright red carpeting, her bed was spread with a gay-covered quilt, and her little cookstove glistened and the bright kettle sputtered cheerily. This was Flossie's idea of poverty. Therefore, when she arrayed herself for a wintery walk with Mr. Roberts, there was to her mind no incongruity between the rich black silk, the velvet cloak, the elegant laces and costly furs, and the very poor family she was about to visit. Why should there be? She had trailed that same silk over old anti-greens bright-colored red carpet a good many times without experiencing any discomfort therefrom. As for Mr. Roberts, he regarded her with a half-amused smile which she did not observe and said nothing. Probably he had an idea that she would soon be wiser than she was then. It is too far to walk, he said, as they reached a point where streetcars diverged in many directions, so he hailed a passing car, and during the talk that followed Flossie was conveyed to a portion of the city that she not only had never seen before, but that she did not know existed. She looked about her in dismay as she stepped down from the car, and during the short rapid walk that followed had all she could do to rescue her silken robes from contact with awful filth and to keep her dainty handkerchief applied to her poor little nose. Rapidly and silently they made their way to a long high building whose filthy outside stairs they descended and found themselves in a cellar the like of which Flossie had never dreamed of. A dreadful pile of straw covered over by a tattered and horribly dirty rag that had once been acquilled on this bed lay a child not yet ten years old whose deathly pale face and glassy eyes told the story of hopeless sickness. No pillow on which to lay the poor little head with its tangled masses of yellow hair, nothing anywhere that told of care be stowed or necessary once attended to. Over in another corner on another filthy heap of straw and rags lay the mother, sick too, with the same absence of anything like decency in everything that pertained to her. Utter dismay seized upon Flossie. Could it be possible that beings, beings with souls for whose souls her blessed savior died were left to such awful desolation of poverty as this? Mr. Roberts promptly turned upside down an old tub that was used to doing duty as a chair and seated her thereon while he went forward to the woman. Have you had your dinner today? was the first question he asked. Yes, I have, and think you kindly too, she added the woman took the money and bought meat as you told her and made a broth, and I and the little girl had some. It was good. The little girl took quite a few spoonfuls of it and said it tasted good. It did me more good to hear her say that than it did to eat mine. The poor mother said and a wistful motherly look went over to the heap of rags in the corner. I am glad that she could eat it, he said simply. Then he further told that he had been arranging for some things to be brought to make both of them more comfortable. They would be here soon. Could the woman who made the broth come in and attend to them? The sick woman shook her head. She was gone for the day, would not be back till dark, then would have to get her children supper and do her washing that very night. She's awful poor, the woman added with a heavy sigh. We are all of us that. If I could get up again, I could do something for my little girl, I most know I could, but as it is, and then there was that hopeless sigh. Meantime Flossie, after sitting with a distressed and irresolute face for a few minutes, had suddenly risen from her tub and gone over to the little girl. Bending beside her, they had talked together in a low voice, and as Mr. Roberts turned to see if she had endured the scene as long as her nerves would admit, she turned towards him and there was more decision in her voice than he had ever heard before. Mr. Roberts, can you find some clean water for the spacing and haven't you a large handkerchief with you? This poor child must have her face washed. She says her head aches very badly, that will help it. And Mr. Roberts, can't you go out immediately to the store and get some clothes for this bed and a pillow? Don't they have such things in stores? I have seen to that, he said. There will be some bed clothing here and other necessities very soon. But how can we manage to have the beds made up? I have ordered bedsteads and mattresses and bed clothing has been prepared, but I have failed thus far in getting anyone to help arrange them. Can't you set up a bedstead? Asked Miss Flossie. Why, I think I could, he answered her meekly. Very well, then, I can make the beds. As for the child, she must have a bath and a clean dress before she is ready for any bed. I can tell you just what to do, Mr. Roberts. You must go down to the East End, number 217 South Benedict Street, and find my old Auntie Green and tell her that she is needed here just as soon as she comes here. Tell her I want her. It will be all right then. In the meantime, this child's face must be washed and her hair combed. I see there is a kettle behind that stove. Could you manage to fill it with water? And then could you make a better fire? Then I can stay here and do a good many things while you are gone. While our little Flossie was talking, she was removing her lavender-kid gloves and pinning up her white, her lace ruffles. Then she produced from some one of the bewildering and dainty pockets that trimmed her dress a plain, hemstitched handkerchief which she unceremoniously dropped into the tin basin and announced herself all ready for the water. But Flossie, said her embarrassed attendant in dismay, you can't do these things, you know. Wouldn't it be better to come with me and we will go after this Auntie Green and tell her just what to do and furnish what she means to do it with? You know you are not used to anything of this kind. I know it, she said quietly. I never knew there was anything like this in the world. I am bowed in the very dust with shame and dismay. There is very little that I know how to do, but I can wash this poor neglected child's face. Go right away, please. There is no time to lose, I am sure. What swift, deft fingers she had, to be sure. He could not help stopping for a moment in his bewilderment to watch her. Then he went and meekly and swiftly did her bidding. There was much done during that afternoon. Mr. Roberts quietly sinking into the errant man who was useful, chiefly because he could promptly do as he was told, and he felt with every additional direction and with every passing moment and increased respect for the executive abilities of the little girl whom he had looked forward to rousing by degrees to a sense of the importance of this work and gradually to a participation in other than the money charities of the day. When they went away from that door as they ascended the filthy stairs again, she said, What an awful thought that human beings exist in such places as this and that I did not know have done nothing for them. She was certainly not exhausted, not overcome with the stench and the filth, though there was water dripping at that moment from her rich silk dress. She noticed it, and as she brushed off the drops, she said, Evan, if you knew, I wonder you did not tell me to wear my Chautauqua dress. I shall know better next time. I must have that poor little girl cured. There are ever so many things to do. Oh, Evan, you must teach me how. You need no teacher, he said softly, almost reverently, other than the divine teacher whom you have had. I am become a learner. Marion, on her way from school, had stopped in to learn, if she could, what shadow had fallen over Ruth. But before anything like confidence had been reached, Flossie Shipley came full of life and eagerness. I am so glad to find two of you together, she said. It expedites matters so much. Who do you think can be going to give a party next? A party, said Marion. I am sure I don't know. I am prepared for any sort of news on that subject. One would think there had been a party famine for years and last time was to be made up to see the manner in which one entertainment crowds after another since the meetings closed. It is a mercy that I am never invited. It would take all my leisure and a great deal of note paper to prepare regrets. Who is it? I haven't the least idea that you could guess, so I am going to tell you. It's just myself. Both of her listeners looked incredulous. I am, she said gleefully. I am at work on the arrangements now, as hard as I can be. And, Marion Wilbur, you needn't go to talking about note paper and regrets. You are to come. I shall have to give up Yuri, and I am sorry too. She would have helped along so much. But of course she cannot leave her mother. How is her mother? asked both girls at once. Oh, better. Nellis says the doctor feels very hopeful now. But of course Yuri doesn't leave her and cannot for a long time. Nellis Mitchell is a splendid fellow. How strange it is that his interest in religious matters should have commenced with that letter which Yuri sent him from Chitaqua before she had much interest herself. Nobody supposed that he had, I am sure, Ruth said. I thought him the most indifferent of mortals. So did I, and would never have thought to pray for him at all, if Yuri had not asked me too specially. Do you know he led the young people's meeting last evening? And splendidly, Grace Dennis said, By the way, isn't Grace Dennis lovely? Marion, don't you think she is the most interesting young lady in your room? I think you don't enlighten us much in regard to that party, Marion said, her cheeks growing red under that last question. I ought to be on my way. My tea will be colder than usual if I don't hasten. What scheme have you now, Flossie, and what do you want to do with it? Ever so many things. You know my boys? Well, they are really young men, and anyone can see how they have improved. Some of them have real good homes to be sure, but the most of them are friendless sort of boys. Now, I want to get them acquainted, not with the frippery people who would have nothing to do with them, but with some of our real splendid boys and girls who will enjoy helping them. I'm going to have the nicest little party I ever had in my life. I mean to have some of the very best people there, then I shall have some of the silly ones, of course. Partly because I can't help it, and partly because I want to show them what a nice time reasonable beings can have together if they choose. Nellis Mitchell is enlisted to help me in ever so many ways, and Mr. Roberts will do what he can, but you know he is a stranger. My great dependence is on you too. I want you to see to it that my boys don't feel lonely or out of place one single minute during the entire evening. But I am afraid I shall feel lonely and out of place," Marion said. You know I am never invited to parties. Flossy laughed. Wouldn't it be a strange sight to see you feeling out of place? She asked gaily. Marion, I can't conceive of a place to which you wouldn't do credit. Whereupon Marion arose and made a low curtsy. Thank you," she said in mock gravity. I never had a compliment before in my life. I shall certainly come. There is nothing like a little flattery to win people. Don't be nonsensical, pleaded Flossy. I am really an earnest. Ruth, I may depend upon you. I know you are not going to entertainments this winter, but mine is to be a small one compared with the others, and you know it will be unlike any that we have had at our house." Ruth hesitated. She asked, her cheeks glowing over her own thoughts. I shall be engaged on Friday evening of next week. It is to be on Wednesday. Then I will come, and if I play Marion, will you sing to entertain the unusual guests? Of course," Marion said promptly. I never sang in company in my life, but do you suppose there is anything I will not do for Flossy's guests after what Flossy said? Only, Flossy, I shall have to wear my black cashmere. Where your brown calico if you choose, you look royal in it," Flossy said, turning a beaming face on Marion. She had heard her sing. She knew what a rare musical treat it would be to those boys of hers. So this was Flossy's last departure from the beaten track. Those who are familiar with the imperative laws and lines of the world will realize just how marked a departure it was. It was a remarkable party. The very highest and most sought after of the fashionable world were there, a few of them, and John Warden was there in his new business suit of gray, looking and feeling like a man. Flossy's boys were all present, and those who knew of them and their associations and advantages marveled much at their ease of behavior. How could they have learned so much? Flossy did not know herself, but the boys did. Her exquisite grace of manner, her perfect observance of all the rules and courtesies of polite society in her intercourse with them, had produced its legitimate fruit, had instinctively inclined them to be able to treat her with the same sort of grace which she freely and everywhere bestowed on them. Had she not met Reed in the very heart of Broadway when she was walking with some of her fashionable friends, had she not taken pains to recognize them with a specially cordial bow, and if near enough, with a deliberate speaking of their names, being sure to slightly emphasize the unusual prefix Mr. These and a hundred other kindred trifles so small that they are not noted among the qualifications for Sabbath school teachers so powerful for good that they often turn the current of a human life, had been carefully regarded by Flossy, and tonight she was triumphant over her success. She had not only helped her boys to be true to their convictions of right and dignity, not only to take on true manliness of decision in regard to the all important question of personal religion, she had helped them to be gentlemen. There is many a faithful teacher to whom, thinking of these teachers, it might be said, these ought ye to have done, and not to have left the other undone. From first to last Flossy's party was a success. To Ruth and Maryon it was a study developing certain curious features which they never forgot. Maryon had her own private bit of interest that not another present saved Gracie Dennis knew about. She was not a party goer, even so small a gathering as this was new to her. She looked upon all these people with a keen interest, many of them she was meeting for the first time. That is, she was being introduced to them and receiving their kindly greetings. For Flossy had succeeded in gathering only those who whatever they might think of her choice of guests were much too well bred to exhibit other than pleasure while they were her guests. But only Maryon knew that she was to meet these people again and probably often under different circumstances. The probability was that many of them would be her own guests, would receive and return her calls, would fall into the habit of consulting her in regard to this or that matter of church interest that would come up. Not one of them dreamed of such a thing, and when she tried to lead them into conversation on matters pertaining to the church interests they looked their surprise that she would have such intelligent knowledge concerning these matters. All together it was an evening full of private fun on her part. There was to be such a curious turnabout of position, she realized so fully that it would be such unutterable surprise to the people that it was impossible not to feel amused and to treasure up certain words and phrases that would sound very clearly to the speakers thereof if they remembered them when those said changes became manifest to the eyes of the world. There was more than fun to be gotten out of the evening. She watched the young people with eager interest. She was to be a great deal to these young people. She must try to understand them, to win them. She wanted to be a help, a comfort, a guide. She had wonderful plans and aims. She blessed Flossie in her heart for this opportunity to study her lesson before it should come to practice it. That same Flossie afforded her help in another direction. There was no hiding the hold that she had gotten, not only on these young men of her class but those of their friends that they had brought within her influence. There was no disguising the fact that among the young ladies she was a favorite, one whom they liked to have among them, whom they liked to please. How had she done it all? I can never be a Flossie, Marian said to herself, an amused smile hovering around her lips meanwhile, at the thought that she should have a shadow of desire to become their little Flossie. But it is worthwhile to steal her secret of success if I can and practice it. Close watching revealed a good deal of the secret, as much of it at least as could be put into words. Evidently the little lady had the power of making other people's interests her own for the time being. Of impressing the one with whom she came in contact with a sense of his own importance in her eyes, at least she was interested in what he said and did and in what interested him. She could enter into the minute details of a matter which did not concern her in the least with such apparent interest and desire to know all that was to be known about it that one could hardly help the feeling that certainly the subject was worthy of attention. Then her face spoke for her. It could cloud in an instant in sympathy with any sort of trouble or anxiety and sparkle with happy smiles in the very next second over some bit of brightness that was mentioned. She is a blessed little hypocrite and that is the whole of it, was Marion's mental comment. That sort of hypocrisy is worth studying. It is as natural to Flossie as that lovely pink on her cheek. But I am afraid I should have to acquire it. I don't feel interested in other people's affairs. Now that is a fact. Why should she? In the first place, I know it is natural for her to like to please people. That is the beginning of it. She has that advantage over me for she was always so and I always wasn't so. But she has something else. She did not care once to please such as those rough boys of hers. At least they were rough when she started the refining process. How she had worked for them. I never realized it so much as tonight. It is just this. She has sanctified her power of pleasing and put it to a grand use in fishing for souls. Meantime I have some degree of power of that kind though it doesn't show in the same way. But I am not sure I have thought to using it for such work. Also, I dare say one can cultivate an interest in other people if they try. I mean to try. I know one way in which I can please people I can sing. Whereupon she immediately sought Ruth and proposed music herself going after Rich Johnson to come and sing tenor and bidding him bring a friend to sing bass. Then such music as they had that evening was certainly never heard at a party at Mr. Shipley's house before. The music room was a little bower of a spot at the left of the parlors. It was not only the music room but the flower room. At least there were vines and plants and blooming flowers in the windows, festooning the curtains, hanging from lovely wire baskets, a perfusion everywhere. Sither went Ruth, Mary, and the two young men who went over this new invitation in silence and embarrassment believing in their hearts that they could not sing at all. As for Mary and she knew better she had stood near them in Sunday school. Ruth swept the piano clear of all sheet music and substituted the bliss and sanky gospel hymns and Mary and passed a book to each naming a page and instantly her full grand voice joined Ruth's music. Very faint were the tenor and bass accompaniments, but as the first verse closed and they entered upon the second the melody had gotten possession of their hearts and they let out their voices without knowing it so that when the piece was ended Mary and turned with a bright face and said, I haven't enjoyed a song so much in years. What a splendid tenor you sing, Mr. Johnson. To herself she said, there I'm improving. I honestly like that, but 24 hours ago I should have kept it to myself. It isn't hypocrisy after all. It is sincerity. Another and another piece was tried, the music room meantime filling for Flossie had brought in her train others of the boys. And at last as the last verse of Hold the Fort rang out Mary and turned from the piano to discover that utmost silence prevailed in the rooms where chatter was in before and every available place in and about the music room was filled with hushed listeners while those who could not get in sat or stood outside in silence and wrapped attention. Such music as that at a party they had never heard before. You and I are a success, I think, Mary and said brightly as she linked her hand in Ruth's arm when they left the piano. We are doing our duty Are you complimenting yourself because you are afraid no one will perform that office? Ruth asked, laughing. No, I am doing it because I have begun to be sincere. I've made a discovery tonight. Ruth, it is you and I who are hypocritical in refusing to say what we think about people when it would sound real nicely and would doubtless make them feel pleasanter and happier. Meantime, Ruth had her lesson also that she had been learning what a trial parties had always been to her how hotly she had stood aloof, enduring with annoyed heart and oftentimes with curling lip, silliness that she could not avoid, listening to conversations and joining in monosyllables when obliged to do so that drove her to the very verge of patience, not once imagining that there was any help for her, any hope of stemming current or in any way changing the accepted course of things. She was learning. Several times during the evening it had been her fortune to stand near Evan Roberts and join in the conversation which he was carrying on. Each time she was amazed and thrilled to see with what consummate skill intact he turned the current of thought towards the vital question of personal religion. Always with an easy familiarity of expression that made one feel and realized that to him it was a matter of course and as natural to be talked about as the sunshine or the moonlight. Wondering over the peculiarity of his once as they talked together she referred to it, I can conceive of parties being less of a trial to you than to many of us because of the ability you have of turning the conversation to some account. He smiled brightly. They are not that he said I have often looked forward to an evening gathering with eager interest and thankfulness because of the opportunity for meeting some there whom I could not catch elsewhere and saying a word for my master but Ms. Erskine you speak of ability I simply use my tongue on that subject as on any other worthy of thought but don't you think it requires a peculiar amount of tact to be able to bring in tricks in a manner calculated to do any good? He shook his head. I should say rather it required a sincere heart and an earnest desire to interest a soul. We depend too much on tact and too little on God's spirit. Open thy mouth and I will fill it is a promise that applies to more places than a prayer meeting I think. What we need most to overcome is the idea that there is anything wicked in talking about religion in an everyday tone as we talk about other topics of absorbing interest. There are different ways of going to parties. Ruth said to herself in amusing tone as she turned from him and she wondered if she could ever get to feel that she might even go to a party occasionally with the glory of God in view. This started a train of thought that made her turn suddenly back to Mr. Roberts with a question. That doctrine wouldn't lead you to be a constant frequenter of parties, would it? He shook his head. By no means. And there are parties, many of them, which, as a Christian man, I could not attend at all. We must guard against a temptation to do evil that good may come. End of Chapter 27 Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 28 of The Chautauqua Girls at Home This LibriVox recording is in public domain. The Chautauqua Girls at Home by Pansy Chapter 28 A Parting Glance Dr. Dennis and his friend, the Reverend Mr. Harrison, met again at the street corner. They stopped and shook hands as they always did, even when they chanced to meet three times in one day. Meetings closed questioned Mr. Harrison after the preliminary words had been spoken. What a glorious time you have had, such a pity that our flocks are so far apart. If we could have united with you in regular attendance it would have been a great blessing as it was many a drop came to us. Yes, Dr. Dennis said we have had a great blessing and I need not use the past tense the work is going on yet although the meetings do not continue the work will continue forever I believe. The truth is we have had a new baptism the members who came to us early in the fall came filled with the spirit and have worked as no other members of mine ever did. You mean your Chautauqua reinforcement don't you? Indeed I do I thank God for Chautauqua every day of my life. What a dreadful blunder I made when I limited the power of God in the way I did when we talked that matter over. You remember? I remember Mr. Harrison said with a peculiar laugh it was a wonderful meeting but then after all were they not rather peculiar young ladies it isn't every lady who even after she is converted lives just the sort of life that they are living. I know Dr. Dennis said yes they are unusual I think especially one of them was his mental addition especially one of them murmured Mr. Harrison in his heart and each gentleman smiled consciously neither having the slightest idea what the other meant by the smile Marion Wilbur came down the street with her hands full of school books good evening said Dr. Dennis how do you do this evening Mr. Harrison do you know this lady she is one of my flock no Mr. Harrison did not know her and introductions followed after she passed by Mr. Harrison said I think you once told me that she had been an infidel it was a mistake Dr. Dennis said hastily she had peculiar views and I think she imagined herself at one time an unbeliever but she is really wonderfully well grounded in the doctrines of the church she is like an old Christian many of Dr. Dennis's people were abroad and I was Yuri Mitchell the doctor stopped her one minute Miss Yuri how was your mother tonight Mr. Harrison do you know Miss Mitchell the doctor's daughter yes Mr. Harrison had met Miss Mitchell before in the fast coming dusk Dr. Dennis failed to see the flush of embarrassment on his friend's cheek as he acknowledged the introduction she is a grand girl Dr. Dennis said looking after her development is wonderful more marked of late I think than before well as you say they were unusual girls but I tell you we as pastors have reason to say God bless Chautauqua amen said Mr. Harrison and Dr. Dennis thought him unusually earnest and intense especially when he added I propose we go next year and take with us as many of our respective flocks as we can be guile into it I that we will Dr. Dennis answered then the two gentlemen went on their respective ways it was a large city and they were both busy ministers and lived far apart and met but seldom except in their ministerial meetings there was chance for each to have interests that the other knew nothing about Miriam reached home just in time for supper the table appointments at that home were moving indeed there were those who said that the bread grew sourer every week this week it had added to its sourness stickiness that was horrible to one's fingers and throat the dried fruit that had been half stewed was sweetened with brown sugar and the looking over process so necessary to dried fruit had been wholly neglected but Miriam ate her supper almost entirely unconscious with little defects that is she accepted them as a matter of course and looked serene over it things were not as they had been on that rainy evening when it had seemed to her that she could never, no never eat another supper in that house then it seemed probable that in that house or one like unto it she would have to eat all the suppers that this dreary life had in store for her but now the days were growing fewer this house would be called her home no one knew it at least no one but herself and two others she looked around on her fellow borders with a pitying smile that little sewing girl at her left how many such suppers would she have to eat she will have a nice one every now and then see if she doesn't was Miriam's mental conclusion with a nod of her glad head there were so many nice things to be done life was so bright hadn't Gracie Dennis whispered to her this very afternoon Miss Wilbur, one of these days I shall hig to come to school I shall want to stay at home and she answered softly surreptitiously kissing the glowing cheek meanwhile the teacher who reigns here shall be your special friend and you are to bring her home with you to lovely little teas that shall be waiting for you this matter of teas had gotten a strong hold on Miriam perhaps because in no other way had a sense of unhome-like loneliness pressed upon her as at that time when families generally gathered together in pretty homes she went up presently to her dingy room just every wit as dingy now as it had been on that rainy evening but she gave no thought at all to it she lighted her fire and sat down to her writing not reports to-night she must write a letter to Aunt Hannah a brief letter it was but containing a great deal this was it Dear Aunt Hannah don't you think I am going to be married now you never expected that of me did you neither did I but that is the way the matter stands now the question is may I come home to the wedding the old farmhouse is all the home I have you know I hope you will let us come I am giving you plenty of notice we shall not want to come until after the spring term one of us wants to be there by the 17th of June I thought I had to tell you before the spring house cleaning let me hear from you as soon as you can so that I may know how to plan I could be married in the church I presume but I feel and the other one concerned feels so too that I would like to go back to the old farmhouse we won't make much trouble nor have any fuss you know Dear Aunt Hannah I am so glad the money gave you comfort then I am so very glad that you thought about that other matter of which I wrote that is the greatest and best thing to have in the world I think so now when I am on the eve of other blessings that one stands before them all the gentleman whom I am to marry is a minister he is very good Aunt Hannah I shall want your advice about all sorts of sowing when I come home I shall come in May that is if you will let me come at all I hope you will give my love to Uncle Rubin my friend sends his respects to you both lovingly Marion J. Wilbur she had a fondness during those days for writing out that name in full a gentle tap at the door being answered admitted flossy shipply you darling said Marion brightly as she gave her eager greeting how nice of you to come and see me when you have so much to think of flossy where is Mr. Roberts why don't you bring him to call on me he hasn't time to call on anybody flossy said with a mixture of pride and a sort of comic pettishness he has so many poor families on his hands and I have been out all day Marion you have no idea at all of the places where we have been I do think there ought to be an organized system of charity in our church something different from the haphazard way of doing things that we have Mr. Roberts says that in New York their church is perfectly organized to look after certain localities and that no such thing as utter destitution can prevail in their section don't you think Dr. Dennis would be interested in such an effort he will be interested in anything that is good Marion said with unusual energy even for her flossy turned her pretty head towards her and eyed her curiously you like him better than you did don't you Marion didn't I always like him Marion asked with averted face and a laugh in her voice oh you used to think him stiff and said you felt all shut up in his presence don't you remember our first call at his study I think I do Marion answered bursting into a merry laugh ever so many things have happened since then little flossy haven't there said innocent flossy it has been such a wonderful year dating from that day when it rained and you made me go do you remember Marion do you ever get to wondering what would have been if we had just stayed on here at home going to our parties and getting up festivals and all that and paying no attention to the Chautauqua meetings I don't want to think about any such horrid retrospect as that Marion said with a shrug of her handsome shoulders and a genuine shiver flossy laughed but you know it is only something to think of to make us more grateful it can never be never by the way I suppose it is early to begin to make plans for the summer at least for those who have no occasion to talk about summer yet this last with a conscious little laugh but don't you mean to go to Chautauqua next summer Mr. Roberts and I are going we would rather give up a journey to Europe than that can't we all contrive to meet there together yes said Marion we I mean to go Dr. Dennis is going flossy said though why that had anything to do with the matter or why it occurred to her just then flossy did not know he told Mr. Roberts that he meant to be there and to take with him as many of his people as he could and Yuri told me last night that his friend Mr. Harrison of the fourth church was going I don't know how Yuri heard that through Nellis I suppose isn't Nellis splendid nowadays I shouldn't wonder if quite a large company went from here I wonder if Dr. Dennis will take his daughter Grace I think she is just lovely don't you very said Marion and just here flossy roused to the fact that she was doing most of the talking and that Marion's answers were often in monosyllables I dare say I am tiring you she said rising I forgot that you have to talk all day in that school room Marion are you sure you love to teach well enough to keep at it year after year no said Marion laughing I know I don't I don't mean to do it I mean to get a situation as somebody's housekeeper do you understand housekeeping asked innocent little flossy with wide open eyes oh Marion are you sure it will be even as pleasant as school teaching I think so Marion answered with Grace at least I mean to try it depends on whose house you get into you know Flossy sober face cleared in an instant so it does she said Marion I have a nice plan but I shall not tell you a bit about it tonight good bye oh the dear blessed little goosey Marion said laughing and moderately as the door closed after Flossy now I know as well as if she told me that she is going to be guile Mr. Roberts into offering me a situation in their dove coat when they set it up blessed little darling and here the left changed into a bright tear I know just what a sweet and happy home she would make for me if I had only that to look forward to if it had just opened as my escape from this boarding house how very thankful I should be how glad the dear child will be to know that my home is as nearly in view as her own as for Flossy she went down the walk saying what a dismal room that is it is too bad for our bright Marion to have to live in it I know my plan will work how nice of her to have put it in my head my head must be for the purpose of carrying out nice things that somebody else proposes oh dear there are so many desolate homes here on earth a cloud over the bright face for a minute then it cleared as she said softly in my father's house are many mansions I go to prepare a place for you after all that was the place for brightness this was only a way station never mind the discomforts so that many were helped to the right road that the home be reached at last in peace she paused at the corner and looked towards Yuri's home but shook her head resolutely she must not go there it was too late though she longed to tell Yuri that Marion was going to Shatakwa and ask her if she did not think it possible for them all to meet there then the inconsistent little creature sighed again for she remembered Yuri's weary face and the long struggle with sickness and the long struggle with ways and ways to which she was looking forward there was much in the world that she would like to brighten meanwhile Yuri in her home around the corner was arranging the pillows with tender touch about her mother's head and drawing the folds of the crimson shawl carefully about her as she said now mother you begin to look like yourself it makes a wonderful difference to get a touch of color about you a very tender smile your answer dear child I will be glad to get well enough so that you may have a chance to get a touch of color about you you are looking very pale and tired oh me mine is the brightest life you can imagine there is plenty of color down in my heart so long as I can think of Arnell leading the young people's meeting and father to lead at the mission tomorrow it will rest me to crown them all you are here sitting up at this time of night with a cap and wrapper on once more instead of that unbecoming white gown how pleased father will be we have many mercies the low feeble voice of the invalid said not the least among them being our daughter Yuri but I could wish that I saw a way for you to have less care and more rest than you will get this summer I would be willing to be very useless your father says and that means hard work for you when Ruth Erskine was in this afternoon looking so quiet and at rest nothing to weary her or hinder her from doing what she chose I just coveted some of the piece of her life for you there is no occasion mother I am not by any means willing to exchange my life with hers I like my own much the best as for rest don't you worry there'll be a way planned for what rest I need yes and there was being a way planned even then though mother and daughter knew nothing of it how clearly people go on planning their lives as though they had the roads opening out into the future all under their own care it was at that moment that Ruth Erskine the young lady who according to mrs. Mitchell had so quiet and settled and peaceful a life that she coveted it for her daughter stood in the great hall that was blowing with light and beauty and caught her breath with an almost convulsive sound as she rested against a chair for support her face deathly pale her eyes bright with a calm that she had forced upon herself in her solemn determination to try to do just the right thing say just the right words her ear had caught the sound of a carriage that had drawn up before the door and the sound of a familiar voice she knew that she was now to meet not only her father but her mother and sister little they knew about each other even yet with all their intimacy those four shatakwa girls but what mattered it so long as they had given themselves over body and soul into the keeping of their father in heaven who knew not only the beginning but the end end of chapter 28 recording by Tricia G end of the shatakwa girls at home by Pansy