 Chapter 1 of Julia Read. Julia Read by Pansy. Chapter 1. In Which I Find My Sphere. I am Julia Read. All the people who were acquainted with my sister Esther will, perhaps, have some memory of me. There have been many changes in our family since Esther went to heaven. When Sadie was twenty she was married to Dr. Van Anden and they went to live in Newhaven. Soon after that our mother's health failed so that she was unable to keep borders any longer and Dr. Van Anden opened his heart and his home and took mother and Minnie in. He wanted to take me, too, but his heart is larger than his home and the ladder was quite full enough without me, especially with my brother Alfred being a clerk in a dry good store there and boarding with them. Indeed the whole family just transplanted themselves one day to Newhaven, this one branch accepted. Before that time, however, I came here. Here is a manufacturing town on the railroad ten miles from our old home. One day I sat in my room resting my elbows on the window seat and my head in my hands and thought hard. I was sixteen. I had no money with which to continue my education. I could not live on my brother-in-law. I would not live on Uncle Ralph. I must support myself. How? I could teach a common district school, that is, I knew I could listen to recitations in spelling and geography and the like, but I also knew that I did not like the idea. The thought of the great bare schoolroom with bruised seats and dilapidated books piled on the desks and a troupe of naughty children dropping slates and throwing paper balls and eating apples slyly and making faces at me behind their books, while the July sun streamed in at us all from every uncurtained window was utterly distasteful to me. I had no heart for the work. When I was ten years old I attended a district school. I had a teacher to whom we were all distasteful. She had no heart for the work. She was very cross to us. We did not like her in the least. I decided that I would not teach school. What next? There were very few avenues open, very few ways in which to turn. I had to think very hard. Sewing. I laughed a little even in my perplexity. If there was anything more than another which was decidedly not my forte, that thing was sewing. I was not naturally of an idle disposition. Give me the proper utensils and I could work, a garden hoe, a broom, a slate and pencil, even a hammer and some nails, and all these I could and had used, but a needle and thread. Never those when it was possible to avoid them. At my feet lay a newspaper. I picked it up and glanced aimlessly down a column of advertisements. The paper was one that Dr. Douglas had sent me the day before from the manufacturing town where he lived. Among the list of ones was a call for a bookkeeper in the paper box factory of Mr. Sales and Getman. I read that with some animation. This was certainly something that I could do. The paper did not specify of what gender the bookkeeper must be, but the town was only ten miles away and Dr. Douglas lived there, one friend anyway, and at least it would do no harm to try. I looked at my tiny watch, Uncle Ralph's gift on my sixteenth birthday. There would be a train in twenty minutes. I sprang up, hurried myself into my brown alpaca dress, gloves, hat and the like and scampered downstairs, opened the sitting-room door to say to my mother, I am going out for a little while, mother. I will be back in time to get tea, and then I started on the first little independent venture in my life. I remember that afternoon so very well. It seems strange to me that every little trifle connected with that venture should stand out so clearly before me tonight. It was a clear, crisp autumn day. The air had a brisk hint of winter in its touch, and yet a summer glory lingered in the sunshine and everywhere there fluttered golden and crimson and brown leaves. They were lying in great glowing heaps over Esther's grave as I caught a glimpse of it from the corner. They fluttered all along my path, and sometimes they seemed bright to me and sometimes sad. I wrestled through them, though, in a burning haste to catch that train, and Mr. Stewart swung me on the platform at last after the train was in motion, a thing which mother would not have liked at all if she had ever known it. I found my way without difficulty to the box factory. I had been in the town often before and noticed the sign. But how warm and tired and nervous I felt as I pushed open the outer door and entered a room piled high with boxes of all sizes and shapes and colors. How red my cheeks felt, and how horribly one ear burned. There was no one in the large room, so I made my way toward a door in the distance. In that next room sat a man with his feet on the stove in front of him. He arose as he caught a glimpse of me and stood silent and indifferent awaiting my order. Is this Mr. Sales, I ventured. He bowed dignifiedly. The same. Then I plunged into business, my left ear burning horribly the while. I have called to see if I can secure the situation of Bookkeeper. I saw your advertisement. Before Mr. Sales answered me, he turned squarely around and gave me the benefit of a front view. It had been a sidewise one before. Then he gave me such a prolonged, thorough, scrutinizing gaze from the brown feather on my hat to the tip of my patent leather shoe that he started the burning in the right ear. Then he spoke. We have always employed men for Bookkeepers. I was puzzled how to answer this, if it needed an answer, and he looked at me as though he expected one. I certainly was not a man, and if they always employed men, why, clearly, I would not do. Fortunately, it occurred to me to say this aloud, and as I spoke, I turned toward the door. I am not so certain of that, Mr. Sales answered meditatively. Wait a moment, if you please, young lady. Because we have always employed gentlemen as no sign, you know, that we always must. What salary would you expect? I suppose I should expect the same salary that you would have been in the habit of giving your Bookkeeper, I said, with considerable dignity. Whereupon he laughed and drummed with his fingers on the table before him and seemed to think. Well, he said at last, I don't know. The idea is an original one to me. Do you know that, as my Bookkeeper, you would have to be present at all sales and keep a careful account of the same and make out bills and receive payment and be responsible for considerable sums of money besides looking after the shop girls and keeping everything straight in that direction? I could do all that, I said. At least I think I could. I am sure I would like to try. And pay the hands every Saturday night, he added, eyeing me attentively. Certainly, I said, provided I had money to do it with. Well, he said again after another good, humored little laugh, suppose we talk this matter over in a business-like way. Take a seat, if you please. What name did you give me, ma'am? And the end of our business talk was that I was a regularly engaged clerk when I went out from the front door and had promised to report myself in two weeks from that date, subject, of course, to my mother's decision, and in event of that proving unfavorable, I was to let him know on the following day. I went from the factory directly down River Street to Stone Street and climbed two flights of steps and knocked at the door of Dr. Douglas's office. Why, my dear child, he said, rising and coming forward when he saw it was I. What good fairy sent you hither, then quickly and anxiously? No one sick at home, I trust? No, doctor, I said gleefully. I only represent myself today. I've come out to find a vocation, and I have found it. Only I have stepped out of my sphere. And then I told my story. The doctor listened attentively, doubted a little at first, then approved, but decidedly doubted my obtaining my mother's consent. I didn't, I told him, not in the least. Mother could see that I must do something, and this was honorable and not difficult, and mother was altogether too sensible to think I lowered myself by trying to secure honest work. Of course, he answered quickly, I did not think of such a thing, but you must remember, Julia, that you are very young to be thrown on your own resources, and your mother might very naturally object. Very probably she will, I said, but you see objections will not pay my board and furnish me with the wherewithal to be clothed in, and bookkeeping will. So will you be kind enough to direct me to a possible boarding place? Suppose you leave that matter in my hands, drop me a line tomorrow in regard to your mother's decision, and I will then undertake to secure a suitable boarding place. Meantime, if you are going home tonight, your movements must be speedy. I submitted to Dr. Douglas's hurrying, and was very glad to leave the rest of the business in his hands. I bustled around a little sitting-room at home in a sort of subdued glee. My first independent venture and its results elated me. I remember I steeped flaxseed instead of tea in our little teapot, and tucked up the muffins under the stove to bake instead of in the oven. But I had a long, late, hard talk with mother. She was utterly unreconciled. Dear mother, she seemed to think that her first and greatest duty in life was to toil for and spare her children. Patient, faithful, tender mother. Tonight, as I recall her sweet, pale, tired face, I can think of no frown of impatience or anger that ever marred its sweetness. I can think of nothing left undone that she could do to smooth the path in which her children trod. I conquered at last. I knew I should, for what else was there to do? To be sure, mother said, the doctor is there. It isn't as if you would be quite away from us all. The doctor will see to you. If... And then my mother stopped and drew a little patient, submissive sigh, and went and sat at the east window, which looked toward the spot where Esther was sleeping, and I knew she meant to say, if Esther was only living there now as she would have been, if... Ah me! I was gleeful that night, but it was gone in the morning. I wrote my note to Dr. Douglas in a subdued and business-like manner, and went around afterward in a grave way, realizing that we were packing up and the old home and the old life were going away from me together. I remember thinking, as I braided my hair, that I would wear it in braids across my head no longer. That childish fashion belonged to the little girl Julia, who had played through so many years of her life, and with whom this grown-up Ms. Reed, who was going away from home to board and earn her living, had nothing in common any more. What desolate work it is this packing! We had not so very much to pack. Mother sold all the furniture except the great armchair in which Father died, and Esther's little red rocker, and a few like treasures. House and carpet and furniture all sold together, and sometimes I think that that was really the hardest part of it. If we could have taken down all the shades and set the chairs upside down into each other and tied them up and piled boxes and trunks and rolls of carpeting and oil cloth in great heaps everywhere, utterly dismantled and disorganized everything you know, it seems to me as if it could have been easier. But instead it was just turning the key on a very dear home thing, as if we were going out for only a walk or a little visit, and yet knowing and realizing that we would never, never come home to it all again. Mother had to go first. I was glad of that. I am glad of it tonight. I could not have had her lock those doors and take her last look alone. As it was, I stood on the doorstep while Brother Alfred, who had come for her, tucked her into the carriage and looked taller and more manly while he did it. I looked as if I might be going back into the house to hurry dinner and have it all ready for them when they returned from their ride. Some strangers who passed by just then doubtless thought so. And yet we knew, we three, that the last dinner in that house that would ever be enjoyed by us had been prepared and eaten, and the dishes were all sold and packed and gone away. Take good care of yourself for my sake, daughter, mother said once more as they drove away. Dear mother, it almost broke her heart to go away and leave me standing there alone, and Minnie cried outright and bitterly, and Alfred pushed his hat over to shade his eyes and would not look around at me at all. But I answered gaily, Oh, I'm all right, the doctor will take good care of me. Then I ran in and shut the door, and I went out, away out to the back kitchen, and sat down on one end of the old washbench, and I am glad mother never knew how hard I cried. It was hard, harder than I had dreamed. There was nobody to stop crying for now, nobody to care, and I just let all the tears that choked me and fought at me and been conquered by me all the last two weeks pour forth. I was supposed to be going to Mrs. Griswolds for dinner. Vesta was married and was at home on a visit, she and her husband. He was a wealthy man from Washington. I knew he had brought Vesta's mother a fur cloak, and she was going back to Washington with them to spend the winter. Vesta and I used to play together, and now my mother was gone. I did not go to Mrs. Griswolds to dinner. I did not have any dinner. It took all my time between the eleven and the three o'clock trains to shed my tears, and then to bathe my eyes from time to time in hope that they would not look as though the tears had been shed. Finally I gave myself just time to lock the doors hurriedly, not stopping to peep into the family's sitting-room and rushing quickly by Alfred's chamber door. I turned the last key while the whistle was blowing for the train, gave the entire bunch to Mr. Stewart's boy who stood in the store door as I passed and said cheeringly, You will be late. And so at last, in haste and excitement, I turned away from my old home and began my career in the world. But a few days before I had received a brief note from Dr. Douglas. I took it out on the cars and re-read it. Dear Sister Julia, I have secured you a boarding place. We'll meet the three-fifty train on Friday, yours, Douglas. Meager enough information this concerning my new home, but all that I possessed. A wretched, drizzly rain was falling when the engine whistled into the station at Newton. I remember I felt glad of it. Nothing had seemed so seasonable, so in keeping with events during all that day as did the steady drip-drip of that dismal rain. I wondered what the doctor would say first, whether he would fall to pitying me, say poor child in that compassionate tone of his. If he did, I felt certain I should cry again, and that I felt too tired and wretched to do. What he did say was, have you rubbers on? And all the way as the carriage rolled down the streets he said only the merest common places to me such, for instance, as that is Grace Church, that first building on the right, or our Mission Sabbath school is located in this vicinity. I wondered then, if he knew how little I cared whether Grace Church was located on the bank or in the river. To all his remarks I made no answer until finally he said, Ah, here we are at home. Then I roused in great surprise. Why, do you board here? I said. I certainly do, he answered smiling, so you see I shall have a fair opportunity to exercise my office of guardian in chief. The house, too, was a surprise to me. It was large and handsome, grand almost, only that it was in too exquisite taste to be called exactly grand. Why the people living in it should keep boarders was a mystery to me. I made my wonderment known to Dr. Douglas and asked for a reason while we waited in the gem of a sitting-room for the entrance of somebody. He turned toward me with an amused shrug of the shoulders and answered, Wait one month won't you, Julia, and then answer that same question for me. What is the lady's name, doctor? You did not mention it in your lengthy and communicative letter. The name is Tyndall, he answered briefly. I may as well say just here that it was watching Mrs. Tyndall and listening to her that led me first to desire to write this book. And because I saw and heard much of her and saw to what uses she put her tongue and saw the contrast between her tongue and the tongues of some other people and the results of all this, I resolved to write it out for you all. And just then the door swung noiselessly and gracefully open and Mrs. Tyndall entered. End of Chapter 1. Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 2 of Julia Reed. This Leapervox recording is in the public domain. Julia Reed by Pansy. Chapter 2. In Which I Am Puzzled She came forward with that inimitable air of grace and ease which I afterward discovered always characterized all her movements. She was a slight, delicately formed lady with fair hair and bright eyes, a lady who wore pale blue dresses and looked well in them. Dr. Douglas introduced me briskly. Here is a very weary, very damp young lady whom I commend to your tender mercies, Mrs. Tyndall, Miss Reed. And Mrs. Tyndall laughed a low, silvery little laugh. Herself shook the raindrops from my hat, sent the doctor into the hall with my cloak and rubbers and had me buried in the depths of a crimson chair sort of at-home atmosphere floating around me before I had time to realize that I was in a strange land and alone. Now cuddle yourself up here and put your feet on the register and be comfortable while I give some directions concerning your trunks," she said brightly as she floated from the room. Doctor, I said, the moment the door closed, why have you never told me how lovely she was? The doctor's smile seemed rather grave, and I answered, Do you like her? Like her, I said, with an enthusiasm of sixteen, why I think she is perfectly lovely. Here we had time for comparing our views. The lady was back and chatted volubly a hundred little bright, airy nothings, addressing herself principally to the doctor, bidding me be as quiet as a mouse and rest a great deal. Which thing I, at least, appeared to do until supper was announced. That dining-room was a perfect fascination. I had never been in a room quite like it. I thought of Esther's description of Uncle Ralph's home in New York and felt the similarity. It was not so much the grandeur that impressed me, though everything was certainly grand through my eyes, as the exquisite fitness of things, the blending of colors and shades, the matching of everything without seeming to be matched. Indeed, just as things match in the woods on a perfect day when the sunlight shimmers in between the leaves. The carpet was thick and soft and green, with sprays of autumn leaves strewn here and there, as if a soft wind had fluttered them down and soft feet had pressed them smooth before they had time to wither. The walls were hung with paper of that peculiar creamy tint that gives one the fancy that there is a golden sunset outside and that somehow the rays have managed to gild every side of the room at once. There was a bay window and plants in it, an oleander very large like a tree and a bird hovering over it and the bird chirped and twitted gently and tenderly as we passed by. Two or three different varieties of geranium were in bloom and as the leaves shivered when I brushed my dress against them, they breathed their fragrance all about the room. Old English ivies came out from behind pictures and wound around the frames and trailed over mantles, and crept behind doorposts, apparently following the bent of their own wild, sweet fancies, and one spray actually reached down and lay among the green mosses and brown and yellow leaves of the carpet, stopping first, though, to twine itself around a little table and lay one of its great green leaves on a plate where mosses and ferns had seemed to fling themselves together, having red berries nestled lovingly among the green and now and then a gray old lichen standing sentinel. There was furniture in the room, of course, chairs and tables and sofas and silver and china on the dining table, but these all seemed to have retired quietly into the background, necessary articles indeed doing their duty gracefully and well, but by no means pushing themselves forward to be looked at and admired. I have been in many rooms since, grandrooms where much money had been expended on their furnishings, and they seemed to me elegant warehouses where elegant upholstery and exquisite carving had been gathered together. The chairs and sofas seemed to me to stand out pompously saying, Admire us, are we not elegant beyond description? Into the chairs and sofas of Mrs. Tindall's home one sank luxuriously and murmured inwardly, How delightful all this is! Not the furniture, you know, not the carpets, not the money so lavishly exhibited by proxy, but it, that indescribable blended whole which mountains of money can never gather together and arrange. At the table I first met Mr. Tindall, a tall, handsome man with exceeding suavity of manner, one of those men who are continually given to complementing not coarsely nor even obnoxiously except as you find yourself wishing that he would forget himself and yourself for little while at a time and talk about something else. One thing I remember which impressed me strangely, the instant, well-bred clatter which Mrs. Tindall began among the cups and saucers together with an immediate flow of talk and the slightly bowed head of Dr. Douglas as he shaded his eyes with his hand and offered his silent thanks, a movement which no one seemed to notice or respect in the least. For myself I found no chance to follow his example and I am not sure that I should have done so anyway. I felt confused and not at home. My life in my mother's house had been a very secluded one and this was really the first time I had ever sat down to partake of food where no blessing was asked. I remember I felt sad to think that Mr. and Mrs. Tindall were not Christians and also I thought it strange that they did not ask Dr. Douglas to perform so simple and proper a duty publicly, stranger still that they did not respect his silent offering. The doctor donned his coat and hat immediately after tea came to me to know if I had any commissions for him then saying that he had several calls to make but would try to get in early took his departure. Will you rest here in this easy chair and have a cozy little time with me or would you like to go directly to your room? Mrs. Tindall queried in a kindly tone as the door closed on the doctor and her husband. The sitting room was as bright and perfect in its way as the dining room had been. I dreaded the thought of my own room and its silence and loneliness. I shrank from the feeling of desolation that was trying to creep over me and accepted the easy chair and Mrs. Tindall's company. She brought a bit of bright colored fancy work and curled herself among the cushions of another easy chair and then began her busy little tongue. Dr. Douglas is a very dear friend of your family I think he said. This inquiringly and I assented. I suppose you are very fond of him then as is every mortal who comes in contact with him. Is he so very popular? I asked, feeling extremely gratified, for Dr. Douglas seemed almost as much a part of our family as my brother Alfred did. Oh, very! I think myself that he has but one fault and that is, don't you think him the least bit in the world fanatical? Did you notice him this evening at the table? That does amuse me so, such an utterly unnecessary parade of goodness, not that he does it for parade. I don't think that of him for a moment, but all people are not entirely charitable, you know, and then I am always just a little bit sorry on Mr. Tindall's account. He isn't a Christian, I am sorry to say, and such little unimportant trifles do have such an influence over some people. I really think we cannot be too careful of our influence, don't you think so? To say that I was amazed by this style of talk will hardly express my state of mind. Certainly I thought people ought to be careful of their influence, but what possible influence for evil could there be in a man spowing his head in silent acknowledgment of mercies? Here had I been reflecting a little on the same subject, only to be filled with shame at the thought that I, a professed Christian, had eaten my bread like a heathen. But it seems there are two sides to the question. Yes, I said hesitatingly, I think we ought, but then I, don't you think it is proper for a man to ask a blessing on his food? Well, my dear, that depends, like everything else in this world, on circumstances. For instance, where the man is, if he is, at the head of his own table, of course it is eminently proper. But if, on the contrary, he is only a visitor or a border and the head of the house is not a Christian, why then the influence may be very unfortunate. Now, in this case, of course it does Dr. Douglas no particular good. He can remember his mercies if he finds any at our table, in his private room to his heart's content, and run no risk of prejudicing others. Besides, a prayer, you know, does not need to be accompanied with bowed heads or closed eyes. It can be utterly unseen or unknown to men, and quite as acceptable. So where is the use in exposing oneself to ridicule? Mr. Tyndall cannot be persuaded to look on such things in any other light than as a pretty little scene gotten up for effect. He says it is equivalent to saying, I am holier than thou. And while he has too high a respect for the doctor to think so of him, yet the provoking man persists in saying that a little religion sets well on a professional man because it is so unusual. You see, it just exposes the whole thing to ridicule. And while I have the very highest opinion of the doctor and his motives, I cannot help feeling sorry that he will not think of his influence a little, just on Mr. Tyndall's account, you know. It is natural that I should feel anxious about him. But how I am running on about your dear friend, too. How do I know but you will tell him every word I have said? Only I do know that a young lady whom Dr. Douglas calls his friend could never be guilty of anything of the kind. I was very much astonished. Evidently, there was a side to this subject on which I had not thought at all. A danger of injuring people by our consistent lives as well as by inconsistent ones. I wondered that I had never heard this view advanced before. I felt sorry for Mrs. Tyndall that she should have so peculiar a husband as to be injured by what seemed to me so simple a thing. But there had been weight in her words, I thought, and I suppose I need not add that I resolved to be careful not to add to her evident anxiety by my own thoughtless adherence to custom in this matter. It certainly was very true that one need not cover one's eyes in order to be thankful for one's daily bread. I was rather sorry for that closing sentence of Mrs. Tyndall's, for I was very eager to disclose my new ideas to Dr. Douglas and had not until that moment imagined an impropriety in it. But the moment I heard that sweet voice say, could never be guilty of anything of the kind, with a strong emphasis on the word guilty, I straight away grew shocked at my own wickedness and resolved not to open my lips to the doctor. Of course not, I said aloud and promptly in answer to her last sentence. And Mrs. Tyndall laughed a slow, sweet ripple. Her laugh was the softest, clearest and most musical one I had ever heard. And answered, My dear, I hadn't an idea that you would do such a thing. I know you ever so much better than that already. Do you attend the same church that Dr. Douglas does? Was my next query? Oh yes, and our seat is directly opposite his, and it is directly behind the pastor's pew, for which latter fact I am very sorry. Our minister's wife is a good soul as ever lived, but she has absolutely no more taste in a dress than a post has. Her mixture of colors is terrific. Mr. Tyndall declares it will give him the lock-jaw yet, and her children are such forlorn little frights, it is too ridiculous. I positively think it is a sin for a woman to be so regardless of appearances. There is no excuse for it, and Mrs. Mulford injures her husband's usefulness by that very thing. I really feel sorry for you, Ms. Reed. I know your taste in dress is exquisite. There is no sureer way of indicating that fact than by a suitable traveling attire, and to think of your having to sit behind Mrs. Mulford in her green bonnet is terrific. She is the last person in the world who ought to wear anything green, and so, of course, she has appeared in a green velvet hat for the last three winters. I wonder if there ever was a girl of sixteen possessed of sufficient brain not to be gratified over a delicate, gracefully worded compliment about her taste in dress. I am not sure that it is a desirable quantity of brain to possess. I am to this day a believer in sincere compliments and decidedly a believer in exercising taste in the matter of dress, and yet I know tonight perfectly well that it would have been better, both for Mrs. Mulford and myself, if Mrs. Tindall had not said on that November night a single word of what I have been telling you. Well, I didn't know it then, and I laughed at her description and flushed a little over the personal part and glanced down at my dress and wondered if it could be true. I was simply enough dressed. Nothing could be quieter than my plain brown alpaca. It fitted nicely, but that was a matter of course with me. Nothing that my dear mother's hand had cut and made ever fitted other than nicely. The shade of the brown was exquisite, reminding one of autumn leaves, Sadie had selected the dress for me, and the knot of ribbon which furnished the plain linen collar at my throat was just that peculiar tint of blue which matches so wonderfully with rich browns. I had a fastidious eye for colors. I rather prided myself on it, so I was the more ready to laugh over Mrs. Mulford's green bonnet. What of her husband, I asked presently? He doesn't wear a green bonnet at least. Do you like him? No, thank fortune he could not distract me in that way. But there are various ways of doing the same thing. Do I like him? Oh certainly, and his wife too. I would not be guilty of disliking our clergyman and his wife. But he is somewhat peculiar. He has extremely odd ways. In the pulpit he makes the most comical use of his handkerchief. If he would only forget to bring it just once it would be a great relief. I am sure he must need a great many sets in the course of a year. I think he ties knots in them. At least he twists and untwists them a great many times during service. Then he has a curious little twitch in his mouth that is really very mirth-provoking. Just pass me that book on your left, please. I can read just like him and I'll favor you with a specimen lest you should be taken unawares next Sabbath and your nerves not prove equal to the occasion. The book I gave her was an elegantly bound copy of their church hymn-book and the page at which she chanced to open contained that glorious old hymn when I surveyed the wondrous cross on which the Prince of Glory died. My richest gain I count but lost and poor contempt on all my pride. It had been my father's, it was my mother's favorite. Many a time I had heard her dear voice low and tender tremble through the touching words. Until this time I had never heard them without feeling something very akin to tears struggling in my heart. But that evening, as Mrs. Tyndall's lips sweetly syllables the words, the small mouth twitched and twisted in soluticrous a way that before she had finished the first verse I was convulsed with laughter. The amusement proved too fascinating to be resisted and Mrs. Tyndall and I giggled and choked and froliced through the four matchless verses of that matchless hymn. Her face resumed instant gravity when the last line was read and she said kindly, I am very sorry that Mr. Mulford has allowed himself to contract such a ridiculous habit. I have given you a specimen, not of course for the purpose of ridiculing him, but simply to show you how nearly impossible it is for young people especially to maintain their gravity. I don't think he has an idea how bad it can be or he would certainly try to correct it. Isn't it sad to think what trifling things will mar the usefulness of ministers? I sometimes wish they could overhear all the funny remarks that are made about them so that they might learn greater carefulness. Is he a fine preacher, I asked, groan grave too and not a little ashamed of my outburst of mirth. Yes and no, that is, he writes well and is quite an orator, but his sermons are apt to be all in one strain, the style which Mr. Tyndall calls being personally preached at. He says Dr. Mulford never seems to think that the sheep need special attention for he is constantly pitching into the goats. He will talk in that absurd way, she added, with the sweetest and lightest of laughs. Of course I cannot but be grieved at his utter indifference. I am fearful that he is becoming more and more unconcerned. Dr. Mulford's unfortunate habit of lashing all who are not Christians, his really uncharitable way of speaking, is having a very unfortunate effect on Mr. Tyndall. Still the doctor is a good man and means to do just right. These are only errors in judgment, you know. I fancy that he must have been preaching to a very different class of people before he came here and either repeats his old sermons or else he has grown into that old-fashioned style and cannot overcome it. Do you attend Sabbath school? I asked with a slight hesitation. Someway I fancied a sort of incongruity between the elegant little lady in front of me and Sabbath school work. But she answered promptly and brightly, oh yes, I have a class, a very pleasant one. Senator Dowling's daughter is in it and Judge Coleman's two daughters and several other young girls of that stamp. I have only one trial, a girl who has recently been placed in the class. She is the daughter of a widow, a dressmaker who has lately moved here. The girl is a good, respectable creature, but it is the most inconsiderate thing to place her in my class. Of course it isn't possible for her to feel at home there. She has no associates and it is unpleasant for her and disagreeable for the girls and positively painful for me. I spoke to Dr. Mulford about it. He is not the superintendent, but I had a good opportunity and I thought I would let him know how matters stood. But men never understand such things, especially ministers. Dr. Mulford bestowed a withering look on me and said, we must remember that the girl has an immortal soul that needeth caring for as much as any in my class. Don't you dislike that style of talk? It sounds wonderfully like can't to me and I do think that if there is any one thing that a Christian ought to try to avoid, it is can't. I answered very few of Mrs. Tindall's questions that evening. Indeed, she did not wait for any answers. Her talk flowed smoothly and musically on without pause or hindrance, which was fortunate for me. As in truth, I should have found it very difficult to answer her, for I was beginning to realize that I was not quite sure what I thought about anything. She expressed so many new and startling ideas and all in so sweet and gentlest spirit and seemed so thoroughly imbued with a desire to be watchful of her influence, careful not to do injury to the cause of Christ, that I was well nigh bewildered and contented myself with asking questions. My next was in regard to Dr. Douglas's class, that he had one I had learned from himself. His singular tastes or whims or whatever one ought to name them are very prominent in Sabbath school, Mrs. Tindall said, speaking of the doctor. There was a very important class of young ladies, some of the very first young ladies in our church, some too whom we had been at infinite pains to get to identify themselves with the school, and we wanted Dr. Douglas to take the class, the ladies expressed their willingness to receive him as a teacher, and don't you think he declined the class? Would not desert his post, so he said. You must know he has a pet class, a half dozen or more of wild girls whom he has picked up from goodness knows where. Shop girls I believe somebody said they were, but they are not connected with our church in any way, and I think myself that their proper place is in the mission school. Well, he refused to give up those girls for this important class. I really felt provoked with him and told him so. What did he say? I asked, wondering secretly how she ever found courage to interfere with Dr. Douglas's plans. She answered carelessly. Oh, the old story about those girls having no religious training outside the Sabbath school and his hoping to gain an influence over them. All very true and proper, of course, but then the very fact that they are so ignorant only proves that a teacher could readily have been found confident to teach them while it is really very difficult to secure a suitable teacher for the Bible class of which I spoke. We had a great deal of trouble and only half succeeded. Mrs. Mulford took the class, but I don't think she is very popular and some of the ladies are just a little offended to think that Dr. Douglas declined the class. I do think the doctor is too good a man to allow himself to be governed by whims at the expense of his usefulness. Mr. Tindall says that Dr. Douglas is and just at that point the arrival of Dr. Douglas himself checked my companions' volubility. We were alone for a few minutes after that. Collars took Mrs. Tindall to the parlor and the doctor drew his chair nearer to mine with a look of genuine pleasure beaming on his face. Do you know, Julia, he commenced at once, there is one reason why I am particularly glad of the position you have assumed. There are some girls with whom you will come in contact for whom I am specially anxious. They are in my class in Sabbath school, gay, wild girls who have had few advantages religiously at least and most of them few enough of any sort. I think there is no influence save that of absolute indifference brought to bear upon them now at the shop, I mean. So do you see why I am glad of your position? It will be a responsible one, Julia. I want you to use it carefully and prayerfully. Instead of answering him at once I felt a thinking of Mrs. Tindall's description girls whom he has picked up from goodness knows where, shop girls I believe somebody said they were with a strongly marked emphasis on the word shop. I remembered what injury Dr. Douglas had done by refusing the other class. I reflected that he was evidently considered a fanatic by at least some of the people of Newton and for the first time in my life I questioned the wisdom of the doctor's proceedings. Added to this was a feeling of irritation that he should seem to class me so promptly with the shop girls. There was a difference I argued between a bookkeeper and a girl who dabbled in the paste all day. While underneath it all lay a sense of shame that I was really so shallow-brained as to care for this distinction and a vague sense of wonderment as to whence it had sprung for I had fancied myself above it. All these feelings combined gave point and sharpness to my tone and words when I finally answered my waiting friend. I will use my influence as well as I can, of course when I am with the girls but I suppose I can hardly be expected to find associates among the shop girls. The slightest possible elevation of the doctor's eyebrows showed me that I was giving him a new phase of my character but he answered me gravely. It is a Christian influence of which I am in search and that, if true and pure, will be exerted wherever there are souls to call it forth and an opportunity offered it will matter very little what work the bodies of those souls happen to be engaged in. I was familiar with these and like sentiments expressed by Dr. Douglas and had been wont to admire them but on the particular evening of which I write they sounded to me decidedly fanatical. The doctor at once changed the subject by asking me if I had passed a pleasant evening. I assured him that I had and grew animated in my admiration of Mrs. Tindall and again I noticed that grave, almost sad look come into his face and he replied thoughtfully I fancied you would not particularly admire her. Well, I said testily is that the reason why you exerted yourself to secure board for me here because you thought I would at once take a dislike to the lady of the house and so find my abiding place extremely pleasant and desirable? The doctor brought his eyes back from vacancy and fixed them on me with a little good humored laugh. I beg your pardon and hers he said brightly I didn't mean that I only meant to say that I imagined you a remarkably penetrative young lady it is an honor to you that you are not I am sure I don't like suspicious people but come Julia you and I must not quarrel we are brother and sister you know but though I hadn't the slightest idea what was the trouble with me I could not get back into pleasant humor no we are not I answered sharply that is nonsense how do I know but you are going to be married next week in which case we would be only strangers to each other I have never forgotten the look of pain which swept over Dr. Douglas's face as I made this careless allusion to his sorrowful past nor the absolute pallor which settled upon it as he answered me in a low grave voice after a few minutes of silence Julia I will not remind you that my wife is in the grave that you already know neither will I say to you that I shall never marry because all such expressions seem to me foolish and uncalled for but perhaps it would be as well to say to you that nothing is further from my present plans and intentions than marriage before I add that if I were to be married tomorrow I do not see how that would alter the fact that I have always tried to be to you the friend that Esther loved to think I would be and that I have the most earnest desire to continue to be your friend and helper in every possible way I have always been glad that for a moment at least I came back to myself and said frankly I don't know what possessed me to speak such rude and nonsensical words to you doctor I hope you will forgive me he smiled and bowed in his old Frank way and said now let me speak at once of a matter which I have in my mind how about the books Julia then indeed he touched upon a sore subject I had most earnestly desired a thorough education and great had been the battle to be fought airplane common sense won the victory I answered the question meekly enough the books are at the bottom of my trunk and likely to remain there it is bread and shoes now instead of books why not devote your evenings to them two of your evenings will be occupied at least I hope they will Thursday is the church prayer meeting evening and on Saturday is our young people's meeting and I have greatly counted on your presence and assistance there but that arrangement leaves you for and in the line of teacher I think we could manage at least I used to earn the bread and shoes that you speak of in that way during my vacations of study do you mean that you will help me I said with brightening eyes and I thought that was the best thing he could ever do for me so before I went to my room that evening a course of study had been planned I was very excited and glad over it and moved around my gem of a room not at all with a sense of desolation that I expected to have on the whole my prospects seemed very pleasant I rather dreaded the morrows ordeal but after all I told myself there could be nothing so very hard about that and the evenings should atone for the days how I would study then certainly nothing could be more charming than this home into which I had been cordially received and no person could be more delightful than Mrs. Tindall at thought of her my mind went wandering over our evenings talk and one little uneasy feeling possessed me I recalled the fact that of every person whom she had mentioned that evening she had said something should I call it uncharitable oh no certainly that sweet low voice could not have said other than kindly words besides she had seemed so anxious not to impress me unfavorably she had spoken repeatedly of the goodness of Dr. Mulford and his wife and then I laughed again at the memory of the comic faces and said what a queer man he must be and it certainly was foolish in Mrs. Mulford to offend tasteful people in such a simple and easily regulated manner as a choice of colors and Mrs. Tindall spoke very kindly of them both and how interested she was in her Sabbath school class who was that girl I wondered who was that one discordant element of course Mrs. Tindall was not to blame if her class would not assimilate perhaps this one was a shop girl and we'd be better in Dr. Douglas's class I winced a little at thought of those shop girls with whom I must mingle more or less shop girls had gone two steps down the social ladder since morning why I couldn't possibly tell was it that peculiar tone which Mrs. Tindall's voice had taken in other words and there struggled together in my mind the two thoughts to be faithful to the girls of Dr. Douglas's class to use my influence in the right direction and to let Mrs. Tindall know that I belonged to a different class of beings and had been accustomed to different society and while I was trying to decide whether or not Mrs. Tindall was right and Dr. Douglas a most decidedly fanatical man I fell asleep just as I was moving to my desk after a somewhat lengthy explanatory conversation with Mr. Gatman Mr. Sales called to me a word with you if you please Ms. Reed and I went to him in the little square room where the box stove was whose object seemed to be to serve as a footstool for the two gentlemen I am afraid you will have not very pleasant persons to deal with for a few days at least he began nodding his head toward the workroom by way of explanation the fact is there is a sort of blind insurrection in there the girls are disposed to resent this infringement on what they consider their rights you see they have been used to having a gentleman to torment and they managed to plague the life nearly out of the last one we had what I wish to say is that perhaps you will do well not to notice any little annoyances or trifling rudenesses more than you can help and the thing will probably come all right in a few days you see they are in something predicament themselves they have no complaint to make to us because they don't want us to know that they rebel so they have no resort but to revenge themselves upon you oh there will be nothing serious of course only a little nonsense perhaps they are a gay set but good workers their places would be rather difficult to fill and one trouble is they know it this talk did not serve to increase my composure it seemed to me to mean enough but don't complain to us I only bowed in response and went at once to the work room my seat was at the further end of the room near a window I traversed the length of the room conscious that ten pairs of eyes were leveled at me and my ears gave me evidence of several ill suppressed giggles on my chair was a huge pan of paste in which I had nearly seated myself before I noticed it and the merriment increased I had it in my heart to preemptorily order somebody to take the thing away but on reflecting that I knew none of them and that my order was quite likely to be disregarded I had the good sense to wait on myself I dumped the sticky pan down on the floor with perhaps an unnecessarily hard thud helped myself uninvited to an apron which hung near me and used it to wipe off the dobs of paste that had dripped from the pan then took my seat and my account book I have reason to think that my first composed and independent exception of their courtesies was a success fourth although the whole bevy of them continued in the highest state of frolic and laughter during the day I was despite Mr. Sales awful warning left in comparative peace in the course of the morning having put my account book into something like working order I had leisure to observe the girls and despite the fact that they were every one of them shop girls I found myself actually admiring them what a bright pretty company they were every one of them had good intelligent faces and several of them were extremely pretty the most of them had rather dashing manners a sort of recklessness about their movements unpleasant to see and at first unaccountable to me but I came in time to this decision which I never had occasion to change that whatever a recklessness or indifference to the public opinion was noticeable in them was due in a marked degree to the public itself to the air of superiority which that public constantly assumes toward them not because they are ignorant for Frank Hooper a shop girl was better educated than General Park's daughter Anna who ignored Frank's existence when she met her on the street not because they were girls of disreputable character for I never met a pure sweeter girl than Ruth Walker the fair haired young creature who worked down at the lower end of our shop but simply and solely so far at least as I could discover because they were shop girls and so belonging of necessity to the lower rank of beings this at least was the demoralizing process brought to bear upon the girls in our shop and it had its results now I in my busy secluded life had known very little about the daily companionship of girls of my own age in school I had been a hard student and of late years had only gone thither for recitations and hurried homeby times to help my dear overburdened mother so among the things about this new life of mine that had seemed pleasant to me was this one of having friends among the girls and I honestly think that no idea of being infinitely superior to them all had entered my brain until that first evening spent in Mrs. Tindall's sitting room what had called it forth I did not realize then I do now End of Chapter 3 Recording by Tricia G Chapter 4 In which I become sub-sextant That morning before coming to the shop a most unpleasant thing had occurred as we moved away from the breakfast table Mrs. Tindall observed pleasantly it is fortunate for you that Mr. Tindall is obliged to breakfast at a barbarously early hour you will never have cause to be a tardy schoolgirl I turned an embarrassing girl. I turned an embarrassed and I think a flushed face toward Dr. Douglas, who came at once to my rescue. Are you laboring under the impression that Miss Reed still ranks among the schoolgirls?" he asked and added in a quiet matter-of-course way. I supposed I had mentioned the fact that she is bookkeeper for Mr. Sales and Getman, an equally pressing necessity for early hours you will observe, and therefore Miss Reed has reason to congratulate herself on her boarding-place. Did I see, or did I imagine, the slightest possible shrug of Mrs. Tyndall's shoulders, the slightest possible curl of her pretty lips, ere she spoke her next sentence in her usual and beautifully modulated tones? I beg your pardon, Miss Reed, for classing you among the juveniles. Dr. Douglas, manlike, told me nothing whatever about you, except that you were a particular friend of his and quite young. I imagined the rest, or took it up as a matter-of-course. Thus smoothly and gracefully did she receive the news, not a word you see of astonishment or disapproval spoken or implied. And yet, for the first time, I felt an utter distaste for my new sphere, and had Mr. Sales and Getman been just then offering me the coveted position, I should have peremptorily declined it. I remember I somewhat abruptly expressed my feelings to the doctor on our way uptown, and that he gave me very little comfort. Was Mrs. Tyndall annoyed, do you suppose, to learn that I belonged to a shop instead of a schoolroom? I asked him, at which he smiled somewhat curiously but answered quietly enough. I think very likely she was. You, of course, expect to meet that class of people occasionally. Had I not believed you to be superior to them, I should have tried to dissuade you from accepting this position. But why should people act like simpletons? What is their dishonorable in an attempt to earn one's living? I said this sharply and impatiently, speaking as I felt, and the doctor laughed. You have asked a question now which it is impossible to answer. I know no more why people should act like simpletons than you do. All I know is that many of them act just that way. But Christian people, doctor, why should they stand aloof from those who have to work for their bread? And at this question he was very grave and answered me with a gentle sadness. There are some very un-Christ-like Christians in this world, Julia. Don't you be one of them. Yet in spite of all this, or rather because of some of it, I sat in my high chair and wrote names and figures with a somewhat clouded brow. Life was not what it had looked to be, only last week even. I seemed to have had a glimpse of degrees and grades of society of which I had not dreamed. And I seemed to myself to be neither in one grade nor the other, but balancing miserably between. Where did I get my glimpse? What did I know that morning that I had not known the morning before, say? It was impossible to tell. Did Mrs. Tyndall curl her lip, or didn't she? That was all I knew about it. Mr. Sales came in presently and gave me some instructions. The book was in a tangle, and beginning to understand what I must do to write it, I worked away industriously. Between times I watched the girls. There was a leading spirit, Frank they called her. Frank Hooper I found her name to be in course of time. I studied her to know what there was about her that made her a leader. Her distinguishing feature was plainness, of a tire I mean not of face. That was, well, if she had not been a shop girl it would have been called beautiful. But her plain linen collar was pinned with a common black-headed pin. While the others wore fancy collars and rather dashing-looking bows, except little Ruth down in the further corner, she had a narrow white frill in her dress. Altogether she seemed to have studied plainness as carefully as most of them had studied their bits of decorations. Even her hair was brushed back from her forehead, straight and smooth, and bound into a fierce knot at the back. I wondered if she knew how this distinguished her from the rest, in their frippery, out of place adornments. I did not discover why she led them, or even how, but that she did, in a measure at least, was plain. They appealed to her a dozen times an hour, and when disputes arose as they did endlessly, about nothings, there was a general cry of, let's leave it to Hooper. Presently I was summoned to the sales room, and, pencil and book in hand, took the rapidly given orders and made out bills of sale. It was pleasant enough work, and I began to enter into the spirit of it. As I was returning to the desk to make duplicates of my bills, Mr. Sales recalled me. I want to introduce you to my son, Miss Reed, he said in a friendly tone. You will excuse my calling you back. I don't like to introduce you in the other room. Of course I can't do it with the girls, and some of them are high flyers and can't see the difference. Then he turned and made the introductions. Mr. Sales was a well-dressed, gentlemanly young man, with a handsome face and manners which could easily be made fascinating. It's all nonsense, father, he said good humoredly. I would as leave be introduced to all of them as not. I know them all anyway. Yes, yes, Jerome, I know. You are one of the free and easy sort. But all men are not made after your pattern. Some now would consider it a downright insult to be introduced to shop girls. And I want Miss Reed here to understand that whenever I don't introduce her in the shop it's because of them, not her. I did not tarry to talk with my new acquaintance, but returned to my seat and my bills, speculating meantime over these new truths. There was a well-recognized distinction, then. I was not a shop girl, but an introducible person. But wherefore? I occupied the same room. I worked hard all day as they did. Was it because of the pasty aprons and the sticky fingers, and were grades in society formed with paste? It was a bewildering question. I puzzled over it until I found that I accredited the firm of Harder and Kohl's with 759 shop girls instead of boxes. Then I took a fresh start and resolutely gave myself to business. Mr. Sales, Jr. sauntered in presently, bowed right and left, and answered the merry greetings showered at him on all sides with equal merriment. He certainly needed no introductions here. Only one of the girls seemed oblivious of his presence. Frank Hooper sent her boxes flying around her wheel with marvelous rapidity, and neither turned her head nor spoke. Even little Ruth nodded and smiled and blushed and turned back to her work, while Frank worked on unceasingly. Mr. Sales had a most uproarious time with two of the wildest girls in the room, teased poor little Ruth into a burning blush all over her face, then stirred up the various elements in the room in a masterly way before he halted for just one moment at Frank's stand. Not a dozen words passed between them, but they were low and dignified. Then Mr. Sales nodded and shouted, Good-bye, y'all! Lifted his hat with a respectful bow to me and departed. Hooper, one of the girls said, when the clamor of tongues that succeeded the gentleman's departure had somewhat subsided, are you going to the meeting tonight? No, I am going in another direction, not to the concert, yes to the concert. Then arose a tumult, clapping of hands, cries of Good-good, and that's jolly in Jerome, interspersed with mimic groans and sighs over their less happy lot, in the midst of which a voice louder than the others cried, O Hooper, what will Dr. Douglas say to you? Then Frank's eyes flashed, and she answered, with haughty dignity, Dr. Douglas is not my keeper. He thinks he is anyhow. I just wonder what he will say. I say it's a shame, Hooper, when he considers you caught to slip away in this fashion. I reported so much of the conversation as pertained to the meeting and the concert to Dr. Douglas. The other part, not understanding as yet, I preferred to be silent about. He listened with a troubled face, gave a start of surprise or annoyance, or both combined, and said abruptly, I am very sorry to hear this. I think that man, you must help me, Julia, to counteract, he is. Oh well, never mind, some other time I'll explain. I don't need any explanation, I said to myself, with a wise nod of my head. You don't like that man a bit, I wonder why. Did you meet young Mr. Sales? Mrs. Tindall asked me at the tea table. That gentleman is quite a favorite with me. Indeed, he is a general favorite, isn't he, doctor? And the doctor answered with as near an approach to rudeness as I ever saw in him. I do not know. As I made ready to accompany the doctor to the young people's meeting, I wondered if they, too, Dr. Douglas and Mrs. Tindall ever agreed in anything. Also, when they differed, which was right. The evening was glowing with moonlight, and as we slipped along the pavement, Dr. Douglas remarked cheerily, I think we shall have a large attendance this evening. Such glorious moonlight will woo the young people out. Matters looked most uninviting to me when we reached the building where the meeting was held. It was far away from the church, a room used for a select school during the day, chosen because of its being more central, as well as easier to warm than the large church. Chapel or prayer room they had none. The fire had died down in the ugly-looking stove, and there were various reminders of the children who had peopled the room during the day. The doctor, however, went briskly to work, putting bits of sticks together and coaxing into a blaze the dying embers. Then he lighted the lamps, gas had not found its way into the school-room. One or two of the lamps required trimming, and the doctor's scissors did duty. Then, from some out-of-the-way pocket, he produced a handkerchief, and, with a roguish side-glance at me, proceeded to dusting the lamps, remarking as he did so. This is not the handkerchief that I use when I am in personal need of that article. Gathering energy from his example, I finally set to work, picked bits of paper and apple-core from the floor, and added them to the crackling fire. Then I tidied up the schoolmistress's desk, and most sadly was it in need of such attention. I remember I said to the doctor, If I were a schoolteacher, I should put my desk in something like order before I left it at night. And he replied, I have discovered that it isn't possible for me to decide what I will do or say under given circumstances until I have been several times through said circumstances. I don't believe that, I answered promptly. I know exactly what I should do under a great many circumstances. Nevertheless, I pondered over his answer considerably, and have thought of it with a smile and a sigh many a time since then. While we were still at work there came in a gentleman. His face attracted me at once. I remember I thought I had never seen a more noble one, yet it bore a pale and weary look as if the man were overburdened with care or work or both. I thought him a brother physician since Dr. Douglas called him Doctor. He came forward to our end of the room and spoke cheerly. Ah, Doctor, hard at work making ready for your flock? I wish I could be with you in these meetings. I believe they would do my soul good. What cheer? A very pleasant meeting last week and a very hopeful spirit. Tonight I some way feel that the meeting will be a precious one. Can't you remain, Doctor? Wish I could, but old Auntie Frisbee has sent for me, and I must try to carry a crumb of comfort to her and look in on Father Durfee on my way back. Gather all the sunshine you can from the meeting and bottle it up for me. At this point Dr. Douglas turned toward me as he said, Why, I beg pardon, Julia. Let me introduce you to Miss Reed, Dr. Mulford. She is a member of our household at Mrs. Tindall's. Ah, said Mr. Mulford quickly, as he held out his hand for cordial greeting. A member also of the household of faith I trust? I do not think I answered him. I was struck dumb with astonishment. I had a mental picture of Dr. Mulford so utterly unlike this living one. Mine I had manufactured out of the fragments which Mrs. Tindall had given me. How was it possible, I wondered, for that pale, pure face ever to look comical in the pulpit? He is a glorious man, Dr. Douglas said enthusiastically, as the door closed after his pastor. A hard worker, an earnest preacher, and a faithful pastor. I wish there were more men like him in this world. Well, now we are ready for our people, but first you may distribute the books, if you will. He unlocked a small desk in one corner and produced there from a quantity of tiny books, neatly bound, which I distributed according to his directions, placing one on each desk. Then he announced himself as entirely ready and in exact time. Are you the sexton always, I asked, as I took the seat indicated to me, or is this evening an exception? This evening is the rule, and there is an occasional exception. However, I do not mind it in the least. Let us sing the hymn on the twenty-fourth page, Julia. Chapter 5 In which work is done for eternity And immediately he began to sing. He had a noble voice, full and round. I always enjoyed hearing him sing. There were six verses of the hymn, and he sang them all, eye-joining in. Then, almost without pause or break, he sang the words on the following page to another tune. I never hear the words of that precious hymn without a sweet and solemn memory of that evening meeting stealing through my heart. Meantime the room was filling up rapidly. Young boys and girls, some with skates strung over their shoulders, as if they had just dropped in on their way from their evening frolic, some with bundles or mail-matter, which they quietly deposited, nearly all of them had the air of people who had stopped on their way to or from work or play to rest awhile. I noticed among the girls four or five familiar faces, little Ruth Walker's among the rest. For them all Dr. Douglas had a smile and vow, but still sang on, and the newcomers seemed to find their places in the little book by instinct, or more probably by familiarity, and joined in the music until presently the house was filled with song. A moment's break at the close of one hymn, and then they sang, in more subdued voices, one verse of that wonderful old hymn, Lord, we approach the mercy-seat, where thou dost answer prayer, there humbly fall before thy feet, for none can perish there. Then in an instant all heads were bowed on the desks, and solemn silence filled the room. The doctor's voice broken upon the peculiar stillness with words of prayer that I never forgot. They were, Holy Spirit, come now and fill our hearts. Help us to pray. We are poor and needy. Show us what to do tonight. Dear Jesus, wash us from sin. Make us pure in thy Father's sight. Help us to bear our crosses, thinking always of the one thou did spare for us. May we love thee more than any other, and fear thee more than all earth combined, and trust thee with a never failing strength. Amen. Then immediately, as if it were in a portion of the prayer, they sang, Jesus lead me, Jesus guide me, in the way I ought to go. Then Dr. Douglas repeated one verse, Lo, we have left all and followed thee. He repeated it, I said. I should have said that they repeated it. I think nearly every voice in the room took up the sentence with him on the second word. Then he said, Will any one prove whether that is necessary? One of the boys answered him promptly. Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. Charlie, said Dr. Douglas, I am in the world. Must you not love me? And Charlie's answer was low but clear. Not more than Christ, sir. Anyone else, said the doctor, and this time it was the voice of a young girl that responded. Be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then followed, in quick succession, other verses such as, set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. And this I say therefore, and testify in the Lord, that ye henceforth walk not as other Gentiles walk in the vanity of their mind. Fred, said Dr. Douglas, what should you conclude from all these repeated and careful warnings about the world? That there is danger of its getting hold of us, sir? Yes, great danger. The Bible does not waste words. Well, have we to carry on this struggle between the world and our hearts all alone? How is it, Harry? No, sir. In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good courage, I have overcome the world. The doctor smiled and bowed, and at once commenced singing. He leadeth me, O blessed thought. One verse, then immediately he said, To return now to our verse for this evening. Will, have you found anything that you had to leave this week in order to follow the Master? The young man addressed, answered, in tones full of suppressed feeling, Yes, sir, I had to leave a dear friend. He would not go my way, and I could not go his. Are you praying for him, brother? Yes, sir. We will help you. Charlie, will you pray for this dear brother's friend that he may come with us? All heads were bowed, and I never heard a shorter, simpler, more earnest prayer. I could not help remembering the words. O Jesus, we want this friend to come our way. We know that thou dost want him more than we do, because thou didst die for him. Follow him, dear Saviour. Don't let him think he is happy until he finds thee. Help us never to stop praying for him until he is safe in the fold. Amen. And Dr. Douglas's voice added, Nor even then, dear Lord, may we never cease to pray for him until he and we get home to the everlasting rest. Are there others who have found something to leave? A young girl answered him, I have left a place where I have been in the habit of going, because I found that I couldn't follow Jesus there. Thank God, said the doctor earnestly. Let us all think carefully of that, dear friends. Let us all pray about it. Do we go to any place where we cannot follow Jesus? Fred, will you offer a word of prayer for us all? And then came another of those wonderfully simple prayers. Blessed Jesus, show us how to follow thee. Help us to search our hearts to see if we are following. Help us to be careful, not to go where thou dost not leave. Amen. Notice one thought in that prayer, said the doctor. Help us search our hearts to see if we are following. That is a very important prayer. Let us be careful that we do not try to lead instead of follow. Go on, friends. My little Ruth spoke next. I have been trying to leave my troubles, she said simply. Ah, said the doctor, that is very important. Oftentimes we build up great walls of trouble so high that we cannot look over and see Jesus on the other side, lifting them to bear for us. Be careful of that. Then he broke into singing. His goodness stands approved, unchanged from day to day. I'll drop my burden at his feet and bear a song away. The talk went on after that rapidly and simply, not at all as if it were a meeting in the general understanding of that word, but as if these people had met together to help and be helped. Many things were mentioned that it had been discovered must be left in order to follow Christ. How many, asked Dr. Douglas at last, how many can say that verse, making the language their own? Lo, we have left all and followed thee. Will all who feel that they have done this raise their hands? Not a hand was raised. Ah, he said gently, we have none of us left all, it seems. We are following, but afar off. Well, will someone tell me who it was who said these words? A prompt voice answered him, Peter. Yes, and Harry, do you think Peter was mistaken in his heart or not? I think he was, sir, answered the young man who had been addressed as Harry. Sadly so, said the doctor, you remember that it was after this bold declaration that Peter, loudly and repeatedly, denied all knowledge of the man for whom he thought he had left all. We must be very careful, then, in searching into these hearts of ours. Even after we think that all is left, we are liable to find, as poor Peter did, that we have not left our pride, our fear of the world, our vanity. Something will still be clinging and hiding the footsteps of our Lord from us. Now I should like to know how many of us have been led by our verse during this past week to leave something for Christ. More than a dozen hands were raised, Dr. Douglas is among the number. This is very encouraging, he said. So many of us are trying to follow the Lord, so many of us being helped on the way. I myself have been greatly helped this week. I found one thing to leave of which I had not dreamed before. Will one of you lead us in prayer of thanksgiving, that Christ is leading us to follow more closely and carefully? There was an instant response to this request, and the prayer was brief and very simple, like others. Then they sang, Come, said Jesus' sacred voice, come and make my paths your choice. One verse, and immediately the doctor said, in a very tender voice, Is there one who will come tonight? We want to pray for one, knowing that he or she has left all to follow Jesus. We mean by that one who has resolved to try to leave all. Have we such and one among us? A young man who had sat with bowed head during the latter part of the evening, now suddenly sat erect and raised his hand. The doctor instantly began to pray. O Master, he said, we thank thee for this. Thou art present calling thy disciples. We cannot doubt it. We pray for this dear brother. Help him to give himself to thee, to roll the burden of his sins and doubts and fears and hesitations all upon thee and step boldly forward. The spirit of prayer seemed then to come over the little meeting. There followed in quick succession four young voices, and they could not have taken five minutes of the time so short were their petitions, yet so wonderfully to the point. It was to me a very strange meeting. I do not remember that I had ever before been so thrilled. There was such an air of simple earnestness and directness on the part of all who took part, and that included nearly everyone present, except the four girls from our shop who had sat silent and apparently unimpressed. The only look of interest that I could detect upon their faces seemed that excited by curiosity, when I, led on by the earnest voices all around me, and feeling as if I should disown my master by silence, said simply, I am trying to follow him, too. Curiosity, and I fancy to flash of surprise, but of that I was not certain, passed over their countenances. I remember being greatly surprised when the doctor, looking at his watch, announced that there were but two minutes left of the hour. For although in looking back I could realize that a great deal had been said and sung, yet I had, all that time, the feeling that the meeting had not yet been formally opened, but that this was a sort of preliminary little social talk. There was at this point a little box passed around by one of the boys into which many dropped slips of paper. Then the doctor said, I have changed our verse for next week since I came into meeting. The development of this subject, and particularly one verse which was recited, has suggested to me a thought for which I want a part of that verse to serve us a foundation. Be of good cheer, I have overcome the world. No, on second thought, we will take the entire verse. We need it. In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world. And these are the thoughts. Ye shall have tribulation. Notice the language, not ye may have, but ye shall. That is, it is to be expected. The world and Christ are not on friendly terms. They do not accord in feeling. Therefore when you and the world are in unison, when matters are gliding on smoothly and gracefully, nothing to disquiet you, have a care. Then is the time for special watchfulness. But Christ says, Be of good cheer. This is not cause for discouragement, because, says Christ, I have overcome the world. And this is the special thought. If Christ has overcome the world, and we have left all to follow Him, we must not let this same world overcome us. Sing, Lord, dismiss us with thy blessing. It was some little time after the meeting closed before we were fairly started homeward. Nearly every one present lingered for a clasp of the hand in a word or two with Dr. Douglas. Especially with the young men who had asked prayer for himself, did the doctor stop to talk. The moonlight was clear and solemn when we went out into it, and I felt more solemnized than I had ever done in my life. The doctor was very happy over the meeting. It was a precious hour, he said. Didn't you think so, Julia? The prayers of those young men do my very soul good, and that boy who asked us to pray for him, oh, I cannot tell you how we have been following after him, why Satan seemed determined to have him. Every possible temptation that can be conceived of almost seemed to start out before him. I don't know when I have watched such a struggle before, but our leader is stronger than Satan. I realized that so fully tonight. Why, Julia, for that young man to lift up his hand tonight and thereby indicate his determination to come with us, required more courage than it would to fight in a dozen battles with sword and bayonet. Those girls from the shop, they were his great trial. I think he would rather have faced an armed battery than events any interest before them. There is such an utter want of sympathy, you see, and such a disposition to ridicule the step which he has taken. I could see it in their eyes, and the poor fellow is very susceptible to that weapon, especially when it is in the hands of one of the girls, Caroline Brighton. She is the most dangerous character among them. I hardly know what to think of her. She troubles me. You know which one she is? Well, do you know I depend very much on your influence over her? Try to get her under your influence as soon as you can, Julia, and there is Frank Cooper, another decided character, about whom I want to tell you as soon as I can. But meantime, I must leave you here. I have four professional calls yet tonight. CHAPTER VI. In which I meet the other side of the question. I had intended to go directly to my room, but the wide hospitable hall was brightly lighted, and the folding doors were thrown open, giving a glimpse of the parlor and Mrs. Tyndall alone in one of the great easy chairs, with her inevitable bit of bright-colored fancy work lying idly on her lap. I was just wishing for your arrival, she said winningly. Mr. Tyndall is late this evening, and I am the most social of mortals. I don't like being alone. As she spoke she wheeled forward, with a touch of her hand, another of the easy chairs, and into it I sank. You poor victim, she said, eyeing me compassionately. It is really inconsiderate in Dr. Douglas to smuggle you away with him to that little den of a school room. I believe I shall have to tell him so. I hope you are interested. I certainly was, I answered, with spirit, for the tone of her voice jarred on the mood which I had brought in with me. I never find a prayer meeting other than interesting. I trust I never shall. Is it so, she said, with a little touch of wonderment in her tone. I confess I should not agree with you. I think there are, or at least there should be, prayer meetings, like sermons or books, adapted to various intellects and capacities, and what might be eminently suited to the class for which it was calculated might not be particularly edifying to me. It is a new idea to me, I said, that there are different intellectual gauges for prayer meetings. I thought they, at least, were in favor of equality of race. Yes, she answered quietly. It seems to be a fact not taken into consideration by many people, and herein, I think, lies the main cause of so many failures to do good to certain classes of people. We try, in this one matter of religion, to lift people up above their intellectual capacity or else drag them below it, and of the two, I really think the latter the more disastrous. Tonight, sitting here in my room, looking back upon this conversation, I can take in at a glance all the ridiculous sophistry embodied in Mrs. Tindall's words. But then I could not do it. I know that they sounded not right, that they were unlike Dr. Douglas, unlike my mother, unlike Dr. Mulford's face, and yet they seemed plausible. I answered nothing, and Mrs. Tindall continued. It is rather a singular meeting, I have been told. Kate, my upstairs girl, is a regular attendant much to my inconvenience, I must say. However, of course, I am willing to sacrifice my own personal convenience if the girl is really going to get any good. She sometimes waxes quite eloquent over the meetings, and I hear her giving the cook some strange reports of the proceedings. They all talk, girls and all, so she says. Of course, I don't more than half credit Kate's reports. I have too high an opinion of Dr. Douglas' good sense to believe all that she says. But you, poor little victim, I have been feeling sorry for you all the evening. Dr. Douglas's class attend quite regularly, I am told, and they, as I told you, are shop girls or something of that sort. Then two of Mr. Tindall's office boys are always there, and an admirer of Kate's who works at the printing office, and all of the boys from the mill. And, dear me, I don't know who else. Quite a conglomeration, you perceive. But what could have possessed Dr. Douglas to mix you in with all that class of people, I cannot imagine. A confusion of motives prompted my reply. I did not like to hear Dr. Douglas blamed. I certainly did not like the idea of being mixed with people not proper for me to mix with. I had greatly enjoyed the meeting, but in view of Mrs. Tindall's evident belief in my superiority over the others whom I had met, I didn't like to own it. And yet I was half angry with Mrs. Tindall for jarring upon the lofty impulses with which I had entered the room not ten minutes before. Governed by all these feelings combined, I answered coldly, These people all have souls, I presume, notwithstanding the fact that they are office boys and upstairs girls. I fancy that Dr. Douglas takes that fact into consideration. Mrs. Tindall arched her eyebrows and sent her gleaming crochet needle several times through the meshes of her work before she answered me, prefacing her words by a light laugh. Let us hope that they have, my dear, though some of them certainly act as those souls were the very last articles they imagined themselves possessing. However, that is only one reason more why they are in need of instruction, and I really hope you do not misinterpret my words. I'm sure I think the meeting an excellent thing, one which, if rightly managed, may be considered a great blessing to these poor creatures. No one can possibly admire Dr. Douglas's devotion to them more than I do, though at the same time I cannot see how he can possibly spare the time that he gives to them from his profession, and that, of course, he would never neglect. Oh, I assure you, I am a staunch admirer of Dr. Douglas. What I am scolding him for is the unnecessary martyrdom to which he has subjected you. That certainly is quite unnecessary, his own sacrifice is amply sufficient. Now, my dear, I see you are going to assure me that there wasn't the least bit of martyrdom about it, that you never thought of such a thing. I can see it in your bright eyes, and besides, I know how you young enthusiasts talk. Now, you must let me give you a little bit of advice, just as an older sister would, my dear. As Christians grow older, they come to realize that there is a common sense side to this question. We may talk about equality and sigh for it, and remind each other that all people have souls, and yet, in spite of it all, equality does not exist, and never will as long as people are made with different sized brains. Now, just look at the thing. Here is my Kate, a good-hearted creature as ever lived, and undoubtedly she has a soul, and you and I wish her well. But do you really believe that either of us would particularly enjoy it if I should invite her in to spend the evening with us? Go farther than that. Do you imagine she would enjoy it herself? Shouldn't we succeed in making three very uncomfortable people all for the sake of a quixotic idea? And that is precisely what enthusiasts are doing the world over, only they don't bring their ideas down to everyday life so people can realize their ridiculousness. I assure you there is nothing like a little practical common sense to show people the folly of their flights into Utopia. She muttered this last sentence with a triumphant little nod of her shapely head, and in a tone that plainly said, There I have given you an unanswerable argument. Oh, that I, Julia Reed, could have been gifted just then and there with a little of that vented common sense so that I might have shown to her the ridiculous flight that she had been taking, and all because Dr. Douglas had invited me to attend a prayer meeting, instead of which I was suddenly plunged into a bewildering maze. This awful social question loomed up before me mountain high, met me like a stern fate at every turn, was even connected, it seemed, with a quiet little prayer meeting, though how or why my brain refused to show me. Upper most among my thoughts was a comical vision of Kate, Mrs. Tyndall's red cheeked giggling upstairs girl, sitting both upright in one of Mrs. Tyndall's crimson chairs, her large red hands engaged in her favorite occupation, that of knitting coarse blue yarn socks for numerous brothers at home, and vainly trying to sustain her part in the conversation. Herein, I believe, lay much of the wonderful power which Mrs. Tyndall exerted over those who came under her influence. The art of painting with skillful touches, a picture that might or might not have anything to do with the question at issue, but with a point to it so ludicrous or grotesque that it would seem to have everything to do with the argument and which would loom up for you to laugh over or flush over so soon as ever you tried to seriously weigh the question. Mrs. Tyndall turned deftly to another phase of the subject. Now, misread, I really must confess to a little vulgar curiosity on one point. I have not liked to question Kate because I never descend of talking over matters with my girls, but do the girls really have anything to say in these meetings? They certainly do, I said shortly, feeling vexed at myself and at her, and hardly understanding my reason for the feeling. What, right out during the meeting in plain English? I laughed a little. Why, Mrs. Tyndall, they are all Americans, I think. You do not suppose they are gifted with tongues for the occasion, do you? She laughed also, her low musical laugh as she said. Now, you naughty sprite, I believe you are hoaxing me. Won't you tell me honestly? I have answered you with perfect honesty. There were nearly a dozen spoke this evening, I should think. I will not attempt to describe Mrs. Tyndall's face as she asked her next question. My dear misread, do you ever take part in these meetings? I often have, I answered, a little triumphant defiance in my voice. But you did not tonight, I am sure, anxiety and suspense in her voice. I am sure I did, Mrs. Tyndall. Why not? I assure you it is not more than I have done many times before. Mrs. Tyndall dropped her glowing worsted in her lap, and clasped her small, fair hands with a mixture of surprise and dismay. This is really too bad in Dr. Douglas, she said at last. I am astonished at him. I do not see how he could have thought it right. I answered her in a cold hard tone. I begged, Mrs. Tyndall, that you will not consider Dr. Douglas to be at fault for every movement that I make. It is certainly on my own responsibility that I took part in the meeting this evening, and I have done nothing of which I am ashamed, nothing but what I have heard my own mother and my sister who is in heaven do many times. Mrs. Tyndall returned to her worsteds, and her voice was as sweet as a bell, when she answered, My dear child, forgive the pet name, but you are so young and sweet and innocent. Don't fancy that I am blaming you. Your home has been in a quiet little village, and since you have been educated in that manner, nothing was more natural than for you to continue your old custom tonight. But you must let me be just a little provoked with Dr. Douglas. He really should have informed you of the views which the Society of Newton take of such matters. Dr. Douglas knows perfectly well that here it is considered in a high degree immodest and unladylike, and it was certainly unkind in him not to tell you so. You, of course, are not in the least to blame. I think my cheeks vied with the worsted in color as I responded. Will you be kind enough to inform me why Newton should have such terms concerning so simple a matter as speaking a half dozen words in a quiet little prayer meeting? Mrs. Tyndall shrugged her beautiful shoulders. My dear little Puritan, she said lightly, what a task you have set before me. I don't pretend to understand all the reasons. There are many people, you know, who consider it morally wrong, and quote St. Paul with energy. Of course, all such ideas are nonsensical, have been exploded indeed. I personally always believed that people's consciences should guide them a right in this as in other matters. My conscience, I am happy to say, has never obliged me to speak in meeting. I don't think it ever will. But I certainly think that there is one important objection always to be considered. Public opinion is decidedly against hearing our voices in religious meetings, and I, for one, feel that my influence is too precious to be thrown away. Oh, my dear, if you could hear the many laughable things that I have heard about this matter, you would never open your lips again in religious meetings. Whether I consider it right or wrong, I asked. Oh, but you would feel it to be wrong, or at the very least inexpedient. That is a Bible word, you know, my dear. I think the influence it has on the unconverted is most unfortunate. They invariably ridicule it. I never heard anyone do so, I said stiffly. Ah, but, my dear innocent child, you must constantly remember the difference in places. Newton is peculiar in many respects, I will admit. There are, perhaps, more educated persons here than generally congregate in places of its size, people of wealth and culture, you know, who have had every advantage of society, and that class of people you will find feel very strongly on the subject. My dear, I really must tell you of my experience in listening to people of my own sex in mixed assemblies. At this point Mr. Tyndall sauntered in, and dropped into an easy chair beside his wife. What is the subject under discussion, my dear, he asked friskly. Anything that masculinity can appreciate, or must I retire? Decidedly you can appreciate it. Oh, Mr. Tyndall, I must tell you, Dr. Douglas has beguiled this dear little puritan into making a speech to his boys and girls tonight. Several feelings struggled within me for the mastery, among which were indignation and embarrassment, and while I was struggling for calmness, Mr. Tyndall responded by a low, quick whistle, then laughed and said good humoredly, I beg your pardon, ladies, nothing else would express my state of mind. Dr. Douglas is a shrewd man, wise in his generation. I would almost sit an hour in that dreadful school room myself for the pleasure of hearing your voice, Ms. Reed. So that is the spell which is brought to bear upon my office boys, I have often wondered. I was just about to tell Ms. Reed of our experience with Mrs. Hilliard. Do you remember Mrs. Hilliard, Mr. Tyndall? I am inclined to think I do. Let us have the story by all means. I am in a state of mind to appreciate it. She was a little wisened up woman, Ms. Reed, with just the very squeakiest voice that you can imagine, and she invariably had a cold in her head. Well, she was the solitary female who used to honor us with her experience at prayer meeting. Mr. Tyndall and I sat directly behind her and had a fair view. She always addressed her remarks to the ceiling, and used to roll her eyes in this manner. And Mrs. Tyndall clasped her hands and, fixing her gaze on the wall overhead, rolled her beautiful eyes until nothing but white was visible, and drew a prolonged sigh, an indescribable sound produced by a long drawn-out letter A suddenly dropped into space. Give us the speech, Fanny, said her husband, laughing immoderately. Oh, the speech was nothing, the same words nearly, but the manner was unique. This was the opening sentence. My dear brethren, a very long drawn breath between these two words, and sisters, I feel that I must give voice to my heart tonight. I feel that, and here she invariably had recourse to her handkerchief, I feel that the spiritual part of this meeting depends upon the sisters. I feel to lament my cold state. I feel that we must wake up and do our duty. I have always from a child been ridiculously susceptible to ludicrous impressions, and on this evening, although my cheeks were burning with indignation over the language in which Mrs. Tyndall had been indulging, although I felt the utter fallacy of her arguments, yet at this picture, rolling eyes, nasal tone, long drawn breaths, and finally voice changing into a wine with sobs and chokings and frequent applications of the handkerchief, I joined hopelessly in the laugh. Mr. Tyndall enjoyed the exhibition immensely, and went away laughing to attend to a business call. His wife's face became grave almost instantly, and she drew a little sigh and spoke in a saddened tone. I have not exaggerated the picture in the least, Ms. Reed. Mr. Tyndall used to accompany me to prayer meeting quite frequently in those days, and that is exactly the sort of martyrdom he was called upon to endure, and I am sure you cannot wonder that he has entirely given up the habit of attending prayer meeting. My brain was in a whirl when I went to my room that evening. I do not know that I was more easily led than other girls of my age. I did not entirely believe in Mrs. Tyndall. I saw through many of her sophistries, but at the same time there were many that I did not see through, and everything about her had a sort of fascination to me. I felt myself insensibly slipping away from my moorings. I sat down, Bible in hand, and tried to read, but it is safe to say that I read only what Mrs. Tyndall had been saying, and laughed a little over her picture of Mrs. Hilliard, even while I had sensed to realize that with such home comments as Mr. Tyndall heard, it was not strange that he lost faith in prayer meetings. One thing I did that evening, for which I am glad, I copied and retained a copy of every word that I could remember about that young people's meeting, to which copy I am indebted for the account of it that I have written tonight. CHAPTER VII IN WHICH IS A TROUBLEED SUNDAY I had serious time dressing for church the next morning. It was the first time I ever remembered to have had very earnest thoughts about the matter of dress. I had been, perhaps, fortunate in that respect, having very little variety in my wardrobe to choose from and very little time to spend in choosing. I think the first thing that led me astray on this particular morning was the absence of family worship. I had always been accustomed to it in my home for many years, with Dr. Van Anden to lead us, and after he and Dr. Douglas both went away we had met in my mother's room, mother, Alfred and I, and Alfred had been the leader. On this morning I lingered downstairs after breakfast, missing this morning's service as only those can, who having been accustomed to it all their lives, find themselves suddenly adrift in the world without it. I lingered talking with Mrs. Tyndall, not in a particularly Sabbath strain, until Dr. Douglas passing through the hall warned me of the lateness of the hour. This, too, was a surprise. I had been used to long Sabbath mornings in my mother's home. I went upstairs and began that business of dressing at once. My hair was refractory at first, or I was over-particular, and the first bell rang before it was in order. Then I donned my brown alpaca dress and felt satisfied with it until I suddenly remembered that I had worn it for a traveling dress. True, I had only traveled ten miles, but what of that! Had not Mrs. Tyndall complimented me on my taste and propriety of my traveling attire? I hurried it back to the close press with a nervous feeling that I had a reputation for good taste to sustain, and selected next my one silk dress, plain black, made neatly and simply, but undeniably my very best dress. It had been a gift from Sadie, Dr. Van Anden, and dear brother Alfred, the latter having saved his pocket money for months to add to what Sadie called the Julia Silk Dress Fund. I looked exceedingly well in it, I told myself, as I enjoyed the luxury of a full-length survey of myself. Next I added real lace collars and cuffs, cousin Abbey's gifts, when Sadie was married. But I finally returned them to their box, feeling some way that I looked unlike myself and church, and selected a plain linen band and cuffs. Even with them I had trouble. I tried a pink bow before I remembered that the bird's wing in my gray felt hat was as blue as the sky. I discarded that and tried a blue one, but it was so different a blue from the wing on my hat, that I, remembering the green velvet bonnet that was to sit before us, and Mrs. Tyndall's horror, hastily took it off and clashed my collar with a plain gold pin. Meantime the bell told and told, and the more I hurried the more exasperatingly it seemed to toll. My Bible lay unopened on the table, and I had had no time for a word of prayer that morning. At least I told myself so, choosing to ignore the time spent in the parlour after breakfast. I had never been to church on Sabbath morning without first having at least the form of private prayer. I kneeled down hastily and tried to collect my thoughts, but I remember that while I knelt I unclasped the pin that fastened my watch chain and drew the chain outside of my cloak. It was a handsome chain and I did not want it hidden. Then Dr. Douglas knocked at my door and called out that it was quite late and there was a long walk to take. I sprang up hastily, ran to the glass, and, I am thankful to be able to say, changed my mind about the chain and hid it under my cloak, donned my gray hat, drew on my gray gloves that exactly matched the hat, and, on the whole, felt satisfied with my appearance. The church was larger and handsomer than any I had ever attended, and the grand organ rolled its music through the house as we went down the aisle. It thrilled and solemnized me. I began to realize that it was the Sabbath day and that we had come to worship the king in his beauty. There was no green bonnet in the seat in front of us, but there were three neatly dressed little girls and a manly boy. I found myself taking particular note of their dress and thinking that I saw no very marked indications of uncultivated taste after all. I liked their faces, they looked bright and fresh. I could not help thinking that they must have a good mother. The voluntary from choir and organ was very impressive, and my heart seemed solemnized to worship when Dr. Mulford arose. At first I did not notice the peculiar quiver to his lips of which Mrs. Tyndall had spoken, nor did I take in the sense of what hymn he was reading until I caught a glance of Mrs. Tyndall's eyes. There was that in the glance which seemed to carry me back to her parlor, and caused me to see, and here again, the ludicrous description that she had given me of Dr. Mulford's reading. It was then I noticed that the hymn was the same, when I surveyed the wondrous cross. I began to give close attention to Dr. Mulford, and noticed presently a nervous quiver of the upper lip, like the twitching of a nerve. Even then it did not impress me as being particularly ludicrous, and more because I felt that Mrs. Tyndall expected me to, than for any necessity therefore, I smiled. But presently, as I allowed my thoughts to rest upon her description, there suddenly burst over me a vivid scene of her extremely comical appearance, and I laughed outright. Mrs. Tyndall by this time was perfectly grave, with eyes bent on her book. I felt frightened to think that I had laughed in church. I wondered if it had really been allowed, so the people could hear me. Then a sort of hysterical feeling came over me, that feeling which no mortal who has not been guilty of laughing and continuing to laugh in exactly the wrong place need attempt to understand. I tried in vain to regain my dignity. I thought of every serious thing I had ever heard of. I tried to imagine what my mother would think if she knew her daughter were guilty of such unbecoming behavior. I thought of all the little Mulfords in front of me, and of the example that I was setting them. And it was all of no sort of use. I laughed again, not aloud, but that distressing inward laughter that shakes one's body to a jelly, that shakes the seat and the footstool on which are other feet than yours. A kind of a laughter that no one within twenty feet of you can be ignorant of. In vain I choked and pretended to cough, and drew my face into very uncommon lengths of severe gravity, only to burst forth again into uncontrollable shakings and gigglings. My one comfort in looking back on my folly is that there was not a bit of mirth about the laugh. It just originated in a silly schoolgirl lack of self-control. No, not originated. I could have avoided the very first inclination to laugh had not Mrs. Tyndall's face seemed to expect it, and I been anxious to please her. Very suddenly at last was I sobered, not by resolution nor contrition, but by indignation. Dr. Douglas, sitting beside me, bent forward and gravely whispered, Shall I give you an opportunity to pass out? A vision of Mr. Tyndall and Dr. Douglas politely rising and myself brushing past them and marching down the aisle my face as red as the carpet on which I trod, burst suddenly upon me. I wonder that I did not laugh again at that, but it instantly sobered me. I raised my flushed and indignant face and turning quite away from the doctor gave undivided and grave attention to Dr. Mulford. He was just announcing his text. I opened my little Bible as was my want and marked and dated the text. I have just taken that Bible and found the words. What will ye, shall I come unto you with a rod or in love? I had no difficulty in remaining grave and dignified during the rest of the service, partly through shame and anger and partly because of my interest in the sermon that followed. It must have been a forcible one, for there are certain portions of it that I remember vividly today. I remained for the Sabbath school service and had a seat in Mrs. Tindall's class. She introduced me to several young misses in rustling silks and many flounces. My little Ruth was the only one that I had seen before. I nodded and smiled at her and was shocked to find that I was the only one who in any way recognized her, save Mrs. Tindall, who gave her a cold bow. I felt that little Ruth was decidedly out of her element and was sorry for her. I looked over to Dr. Douglas's class. Frank Cooper was there and several others, Ruth's companions. If I had not been angry at the doctor, I should have motioned him to me and proposed an immediate change, thereby relieving Ruth and her teacher. But what I was pleased to call his insufferable impertinence could not so soon be overlooked. I remember very little about the lesson. I failed to become interested, but after the question-book forums were gone through with and Bibles closed, I remember an animated discussion that ensued concerning the getting up of tableaux for a certain festival which was to be held about Christmas time. Mrs. Tindall gave minute descriptions of the style of dress needed to personate certain characters, and I suddenly became an object of importance because I had not only seen but participated in one of the tableaux mentioned and could give accurate information as to whether the young lady who personated religion should dress in white or black. Ms. Florence Hervey, the most supercilious young lady of all that supercilious clique and who evidently had been almost inclined to ignore me, seemed suddenly to decide on patronage instead and asked innumerable questions, even whispering them at intervals during the closing prayer, and said, as we were passing out, I shall call on you, Ms. Reed. My engagements are so many that I call on very few strangers, but I shall make you an exception. Then she turned and addressed her teacher. Mrs. Tindall, I really think it is insufferable having that walker girl in our class. What makes you endure it? Lucia Simmons responded. Nonsense, Flo. What do you care? I'm sure she is as quiet as a little brown kitten. I think it's refreshing to look at her meek face. And Mrs. Tindall, with her sweetest smile and gentle voice, added, You know, we must not be respecters of persons in Sabbath school, my dear Florence. Oh, now, Mrs. Tindall, that's all very well for you to say, of course, but it is useless to expect the same amount of perfection in us. We never expect to attain to your standard, and she makes us positively uncomfortable. I looked steadily at Ms. Florence, but could not determine whether or not this sentence savored of sarcasm. If Mrs. Tindall thought so, she did not make it visible, but answered thoughtfully. To be sure, the poor girl seems rather out of her element. My dear, do you think the doctor would take her? Before I could respond, the doctor joined us, and with a grave bow to the young ladies addressed their teacher. Mrs. Tindall, my girls say you have one of their friends in your class, Ms. Walker. Is she properly classified? Mrs. Tindall laughed. Asked Ms. Hervey, she said playfully, and Ms. Hervey, nothing daunted, responded promptly. Indeed, Dr. Douglas, she is my thorn in the flesh. She looks so entirely as if she had come out of the Ark that my mind is continually carried back to antediluvian times to the great disadvantage of Moses and the Egyptians, about whom, you know, we are studying at present. Dr. Douglas's face relaxed not one muscle, and with a grave bow, he merely said, Mrs. Tindall, I will speak to the superintendent about her, and left us. Ms. Hervey's thoughts were thus turned into another channel. How can you possibly exist with that man sitting at your table? Haven't you contracted the dyspepsia lately? I would quite as soon sit opposite my grandfather's monument. Florence, you are a sad child, Mrs. Tindall answered with a slight laugh. The doctor is worth a dozen ordinary gentlemen. Ask Ms. Reed if it is not so. Then to me, come, my dear, shall we go? Her last remark had instantly fixed a battery of eyes on me, and I know the wonder had been started as to what Ms. Reed knew of Dr. Douglas. I learned long afterward that this was one of Mrs. Tindall's quiet, ladylike ways of gossiping. The doctor had disappeared, but joined us just as we reached the piazza, and detained me with a question as Mrs. Tindall passed in. Julia, do you go to mission school with me this afternoon? I turned a haughty indignant face toward him and spoke loftily. Is that the only apology which you have to offer for your rudeness to me this morning? He looked simply surprised and spoke in his usual tone. I have no apology of any sort to offer, Julia, for I certainly was not aware of an occasion. I saw you utterly unable to control yourself, and the wisest thing to do seemed to me to leave the church until you regained self-command. His composure angered me more than before, and I answered sharply. You may look elsewhere for mission school help. I have no desire to accompany you. To this he made no sort of reply, only held open the door for me to pass in. While he awaited in the back parlor the summons to dinner, the doorbell rang, and presently there sauntered in young Mr. Sales, sauntered as the only word which seemed to me to apply to Mr. Sales' movements. His whole manner had an air of good-natured languor. Will you give me some dinner? he asked as he dropped indolently into a chair. Boarding-house fair seemed to me insufferable today to say nothing of boarding-house society. Then you are still boarding away from home, queried Mrs. Tyndall? Mr. Sales shrugged his shoulders, then laughed lazily and said, Yes, Madame Sales and I agree much better apart. Poor fellow, Mrs. Tyndall said with a sympathetic sigh, and immediately we were summoned to dinner. Dr. Douglas, who came from his room at the bell-call, greeted the visitor with a grave bow. The talk flowed on very pleasantly, but not in the least sabbath-like. The doctor maintained an air of quiet dignity, joining in the conversation only when directly addressed. As Mr. Tyndall passed the dessert to his guest, he said, Sales, you scapegrace, where were you today? I didn't see you in church. Probably not, as I wasn't there. I worshipped in a more primitive form. Where and how? Mr. Sales glanced from Dr. Douglas to Mrs. Tyndall and myself with a good, humored laugh. Do you want to disgrace me before this goodly number of orthodox people, he asked, speaking lightly? Well, if you are really anxious to know, I went toward the rising instead of the setting sun, more reasonable, you know, in the morning. Mrs. Tyndall looked shocked. You went to the cathedral, you wicked man, she exclaimed in reproving tones. Well, I can't agree with you, Mrs. Tyndall. I don't feel wicked in the least. On the contrary, I don't know when I have been so devotionally inclined as I was this morning. The music was glorious. I thought of you, Mrs. Tyndall. You would have enjoyed the chanting. How is it, doctor? Isn't it right for one to follow the bent of his nature in choosing his place of worship? One may safely follow his conscience, I think, in this, as in other matters, provided he has carefully educated that conscience to the best of his knowledge and ability. The doctor's voice was courteous but grave-toned, and Mr. Sales responded as usual with a laugh when he added, and provided he has one you ought to have said, I have never become quite sure on that point as yet. But come now, Tyndall. What did you gain by attending church this morning? Give an account of your impressions.