16 He giveth wisdom unto the wise. Carrying out this thought of her one-word motto through the singing of the closing hymn, which by the way was a funeral one, in honor of Paul's eighteen hundred years in heaven, servant of God well done, rest from thy loved employ, delcast about in her mind for the particular form that her whatsoever should take that day. There was a young man in the mill, one in whom she knew Jim Forbes was deeply interested. He had asked her weeks ago to pray for that young man, and she remembered, with a blush of shame, in what a fifthful uncertain way she had done so, and not a word had she ever spoken to him about this great one thing, although he occupied Mr. Sale's seat exactly behind them. During the benediction her heart put up a prayer for strength and help, for a word in season to speak to John Howland, for she had quite resolved upon trying to speak to him. Full of this thought she turned to find him the moment the amen was spoken. She had her sentence ready. The text had so impressed her that she felt like using its words instead of her own. She wanted to say something very simple and brief, yet something that would evince her earnest interest in his welfare. John, she meant to say, won't you try to find this one thing? Behold, no John Howland was there. Intent upon her errand she had almost spoken his name before she had discovered that he was not in his accustomed place. Instead she came face to face with Mr. Merrill, a young man whom she knew but slightly, a confidential clerk in one of the large mercantile houses. A very well-educated, very well-dressed, very unexceptionable young man, quite unlike John Howland. Instinctively she held out her hand to him as she had meant to do to John. As this was an unexpected courtesy he received it with heightened color and marked pleasure. Then during the brief conversation that followed, Dell's heart and conscience kept up in undercurrent after this wise. Mr. Merrill is not a Christian. His soul is as precious as John Howland's. Why should I not speak my little word to him? But I am so very slightly acquainted with him. What of that? I am sufficiently acquainted to ask after the health of his body. I have just done so. Is the soul of less importance? It will seem so very strange to him. But that will do no harm. I am not trying for what people will think of me. Perhaps he will think I am trying to interest him in myself and take this method. How very absurd! Is it so strange a thing for a Christian to earnestly desire the conversion of a soul? If it is, then its strangeness should be my shame. Oh, I wish John Howland were here. I wonder where he is. My heart was set on speaking just a word to him today. Perhaps my savior has determined that Mr. Merrill should be my opportunity today. Anyway, he is certainly my whatsoever. He is the only one near me who is not a professor of religion. Very rapidly these thoughts traveled through her brain. This conversation was carried on while she was saying with her lips as they walked down the aisle, Yes, it was a beautiful day. Yes, she thought the congregation unusually large. No, she did not like the anthem. She thought it too operatic in style to be suited to a church service. Almost at the door. In another moment he would have made his parting bow and her whatsoever would be left undone. This was the undercurrent again. Her lips were in the midst of the sentence. I do not know just how long I shall remain a Newton. She broke off the word just and said suddenly, Mr. Merrill, in a tone of such unmistakable earnestness and eagerness, that he waited, wondering much, after he had pronounced his bland encouraging well. Did you notice the text particularly today? The text? Let me see. Yes, I recall it. The theme was very finely handled, was it not? There was no answer to this question. Instead, Del said in lowered tones, but with that unmistakable ring of sincere heartfelt earnestness about them. Well, do you know, I wish with all my heart, that you would seek after that one thing? Mr. Merrill was unutterably astonished. He had been to a Christian church sabbath after sabbath for years and years, yet this was actually the first time, since his boyhood, that he had any recollection of a personal address upon the subject. In young ladies he was acquainted with by the score. He often walked to the corner, and sometimes further with them, carrying their hymn-books or parasols, if the day chants to be cloudy, and they had proper decorous conversation together about the fine tones of Mr. Trecevan's voice, or what an excellent reader he was, or how appropriate his sermon was to this particular time of year, or what an exclusively solemn anthem the choir opened with this morning. But never once, Mr. Merrill, are you a Christian, or won't you be a Christian? Never certainly, a tremulously earnest, I wish with all my heart that you would seek after the one thing. Mr. Merrill's conversational powers were good. He was a most unnatural thing for him to hesitate over a reply, or fail of a prompt and proper wording in what he wished to say. But this particular occasion was unexpected and overwhelming. He looked at the earnest, inquiring eyes raised to his, and remained absolutely silent. He did not even say good morning as they reached the outer door, and delturned toward the Sabbath school room. He just simply lifted his hat and bowed low, and with unusual gravity. Well, delt said, looking after him for a moment, he is offended, I think. Perhaps it isn't strange. I am very abrupt. If I could do things as Abby can. I believe I am always doing what poor Jim says of himself, making a muddle. Ah, now, I don't mean to carry my own burdens today. I said my word. I believe my master waited for me to say it. If I blundered in the manner I am sorry and will ask him to make my manner of no moment and to use the word to his glory. Then, forgetting the things which are behind, surely I may forget the blunders, too, after I have asked the Lord to blot them out. It would be foolish to keep piling them up before me for my heart to gaze at after that. We had particularly remembered that after this attempt at doing, delt kept to her own room and prayed much for Mr. Merrill all that day. Poor, said she, if faith without works is dead, surely works without faith must be also. Why, where is delt, Mr. Sales asked suddenly, on the following Tuesday evening, pausing in the midst of conversation as he suddenly remembered that he had been at home for an hour and had not seen that member of the household. She is in her room and has been all the afternoon, his wife answered. I went up to call on her once, but she was so exceedingly quiet that I concluded she was either writing or asleep and did not disturb her. The afternoon mail brought her very bulky letters, and I fancy she has been particularly engaged. But she has been hermit long enough, I have half a mind to call her. At which point delt came in? We were just about to disband and go in search of you, Mr. Sales said, rising to give her a seat.   Nothing so very serious, and yet nothing very cheering, delt said, trying to laugh, but looking rather pale and worn. If you will read aloud this letter from Uncle Edward, you will know all about it at once, and better than I can tell you. Mr. Sales took the letter somewhat hesitatingly, and delt slipped into a quiet corner and shaded her eyes from the light. Thus the letter ran. Boston, August 21, 18 Something. Dear child, isn't your visit rather lengthy? It seems long to us since you went away. Still, I am glad that you are away from Boston during the heated term, and that you are with friends whom, having not seen, we love. Your Aunt Laura says that Abbey of yours is in every way delightful. She is evidently a woman of sense, interpolated Mr. Sales, without raising his eyes, and in precisely the same tone of voice as that in which he was reading. Remember me to Mr. Sales, and tell him I look forward joyfully to the pleasure of long pleasant hours spent with him when we meet in heaven. I met your class for half an hour after school last Sabbath. There were many inquiries after you. Thomas Jones made me tell you when I wrote that he had fully decided for Christ, and Henry Wilson, true to his more diffident nature, murmured low, I think I am not perfectly sure, but I think you may say the same for me. Both these lads took part in our young people's meeting last evening, and both referred to their dear teacher as being instrumental in leading their feet into this way. They are both thoroughly in earnest. The king has greatly honored you, dear child. You will be glad to hear that I also have my crumb of encouragement. My poor old Jonas, after many stumblings back into the mire of drunkenness and misery, has at last had his feet firmly planted on the Rock of Ages. Joy to him henceforth, so I firmly believe. Isn't it a blessed religion? Isn't he a blessed savior, who from his heights in glory can reach down a loving, pitying, helping hand even to such as Jonas, and raise him up? What news concerning your Jenny Adams? Your Aunt Laura's class have been remembering her this week. We are waiting for the privilege of rejoicing with you over another name in the Book of Life. I am glad, but not surprised, to hear of young Forbes's steady progress and successes. The Lord takes care of his own. My thoughts have been much on that verse during this past week. The Lord knoweth him that are his. I, he certainly does. Can anything be more comforting, especially when we remember it in the light of all the wonderful and glorious promises that come trooping forward for those who are his children? Oh, by the way, Mr. Henderson has taken his place permanently in the Sunday school and prayer meeting. It is a triumph over Satan that it seems to me must startle him. The contest has been long and fierce, but the Lord has power to save. And now, dear child, that all the good and pleasant things are told, I have something not so pleasant as we view these things. It is precious to me to remember that the dear Lord knows and has arranged the apparently uncomfortable things of this life with the same loving kindness that ordered the manifest blessings. To be brief and plain, then.  Today I am a poor man, so suddenly do our changes come to us. You will wish to know all the details, but the story is so intricate that I would faint leave it until we can talk it over face to face. It is not an unusual experience. Many a man has been called upon to pass through it. The bitter drop in the cup is that one man in whom we placed the most important trust has been tempted and has fallen. That is poor Warner. I know this will grieve you to the heart, as well as surprise you greatly, even as it has us. But remember, dear child, that his provocation was very great, and we tempted him perhaps more than mortal could endure. You know he had charge of our immense business, and we had unlimited confidence in him. I have neither space nor heart in which to tell you the man's sad, pitiful story, but I know your Christian charity will try to think the best of him and that you will not cease to pray for him and his poor young wife. Without our plans, of course we yield up everything and begin life afresh. You will wonder at the want of foresight which placed so heavy a business in the hands of one man, but there are other complications that have been suffered for some good wise reason unknown to us to come upon us at the same time so that it is not all poor Warner's fault. Fire and flood and shipwreck have come upon us in the last two months. None of these could he help. God only knows how I pity him. They think, Del, what his burden is compared with ours. Well, to return to ourselves again, we have already engaged good, comfortable board, pretty well uptown, and your Aunt Laura is selecting from the household the necessary articles to take with us. We are not in absolute poverty, you understand, such as has overwhelmed many a family during the last trying year, but we have where to lay our heads and wherewithal to be clothed. The businessmen of the city have come grandly to my help, offering to do many noble things, but your Aunt and I both judged it the nearest right to bear the burden so far as we could alone. At the same time it has been blessed to have our friends rally around us with such ready hearts and hands. And now, my dear daughter, I do not know that I need waste time in words in saying to you what you thoroughly know and feel that our home is as much your home as ever. Not so pretty in its outward adorning, but just as rich in its wealth of love. If I were writing to one less used to life and less acquainted with her uncle, I should have to be more careful, more explicit in my explanations, but I am glad to remember that you will understand me. Remember I have strong arms and a steady brain, and therefore I am thoroughly prepared for every special strain. There will be much to talk over with you when you come. I think I know your heart well enough to know it will be soon. We seem to be in special need of you. Your Aunt Laura said today that she missed you at every turn. I hope this news will reach you through me instead of through the papers. It isn't pleasant to hear of personal matters through a third party. There is more to say, but time and space will permit only this. Keep up a brave heart, daughter. Do not allow yourself to be sorrowful over much. Remember that God is God, my darling, of the night as well as the day, and we feel and know that we can go wherever he leads the way. If you feel like coming before a letter can reach us, telegraph that I may meet you. I need not exhort you to pray much during these first hours of surprise. It is a blessed help. Your Aunt Laura and I have felt it in all its fullness. She will add a line to this lengthy letter, as ever, Uncle Edward. P.S., dear darling child, Edward has said it all and more, too. What a long letter. Come home, dear, as soon as you can consistently. We need you very much. In all our bewilderment over the suddenness of the trial, we have found time to rejoice with heartfelt joy over the thought that this is only money, not dishonor to overwhelm us. Poor Mrs. Warner, that indeed must be hard to bear. Not death, our precious circle is unbroken. So our prayers are still thanksgiving. Edward is calling. I must go. Good night, darling. Aunt Laura. CHAPTER 17 How do ye say we are wise and the law of the Lord is with us? Let us see Meryl, Mrs. Tresavant said, reading from a card which a servant had just brought her. Who is he, Carol? He is a young man who attends our church, clerk in one of the stores, I believe, or something of that sort. While he is downstairs waiting to see you, and I wish he were in Texas, I'm ready to go to Mrs. Roberts to call, and I presume he will stay an hour. There were special reasons why the minister desired to call on Mrs. Roberts that afternoon, so he answered in no very soothing tone. If it hadn't taken you such an age to dress, Laura, we might have been gone some time ago. Of course it is my fault, Mrs. Tresavant answered, in a tone intended to be suggestive of resigned martyrdom. Things always are my fault. Only I should like to know how soon you expect a lady to dress. It is hardly two hours since dinner. There is no necessity for Mr. Meryl spending the afternoon, I presume. Can't you tell him that you have an engagement? No, said Mr. Tresavant coldly. I cannot, for the simple reason that it would not be true. Really, I should like to know why. Haven't you made an engagement with me? Oh, as to that, I have an engagement with you most of the time. I should never be ready to see people if I took such into consideration, with which parting remark Mr. Tresavant descended to the parlor in no very amiable frame of mind to meet Mr. Meryl. Perhaps notwithstanding his attempt to be cordial, something of his feeling crept into his manner. At least the two gentlemen did not get on well together, and after the stereotyped preliminary remarks had been made, conversation flagged miserably. They exhausted the weather, the new boarding house, the last lecture, given so long ago that it was surprising how they ever wandered back to it. Finally they turned to the weather again, and both insisted that it was a perfect day, that no weather in all the annals of August could have been more lovely, so much pleasanter than yesterday they both declared, and then both earnestly hoped that it would continue through to-morrow. Grand weather for a walk, Mr. Tresavant said at last, with a desperate disregard of courtesy. Mrs. Tresavant and I have arranged for a walk to Mrs. Roberts this afternoon. She has a lovely place, you know. Yes, Mr. Meryl assented absently, then rousing. No, he did not know. He had not the pleasure of Mrs. Roberts acquaintance. What could be the matter with Mr. Meryl? Under ordinary circumstances, his fine sense of propriety would have taken the alarm at the very faintest suspicion of a previous engagement. Nay, under ordinary circumstances, he would not have been there at all, still he stayed unaccountably. Did Mr. Tresavant approve of the last postal regulations? He asked, with as deep an appearance of anxiety as if he had been Postmaster General and Mr. Tresavant President of the United States. Very much indeed that gentleman answered, with very questionable grammar, thinking meantime of the state of mind that his wife was probably indulging at that moment. At last Mr. Meryl seemed to resolve upon coming in some degree to himself, and he said, with visible embarrassment, but yet with more genuine dignity than had before appeared. Mr. Tresavant, I hope I do not take your time from any more important matter this afternoon, but I think I am in need of your assistance. Yes, said Mr. Tresavant hesitatingly, trying to smile, but still thinking of his waiting wife upstairs, thinking also, what a nuisance! He wants some miserable Latin jargon translated, I presume. These aspiring young men are always after things of that sort, and they take up time fearfully. Why couldn't he have made us errant known in the first place? Then he waited in unsympathizing silence. Mr. Tresavant, the young man said again, this time with visible brightening of color, I am trying to walk in a new path, and I am somewhat in the dark. I need your help. Simply misunderstanding him, Mr. Tresavant said in half sarcastic pussentry, that is rather ambiguous language, there are so many paths in this world. If you will enlighten me as to the one to which you refer, I will endeavor to aid you if I can. It is not of this world, Mr. Merrill answered, with great earnestness, I am trying to learn how to follow Christ, and I am making very stumbling work of it. Mr. Tresavant was unutterably astonished. True, he had been praying, morning and evening, in public and in private, for just this thing, that the Lord would bless his truth to the salvation of some soul. But it appeared, from the unbounded amazement with which he received this announcement, that the probability of having his petitions in this regard answered had not once occurred to him. But he was more than astonished. He was thrilled to the very center of his heart. Full of faults as this man was, many and seemingly endless as were the mistakes that he had made on every side, I yet declare to you that his heart was in the right place, that it thrilled and throbbed with unutterable joy over the blessed surprise. You have before discovered that he was a man who generally acted from impulse. His impulse at this moment led him to rise from his seat, cross to Mr. Merrill's side, grasp his hand, and say eagerly, My dear friend, I cannot tell you what a pleasure it is to hear you say this. How can I help you? And the evident embarrassment which had until this, bettered Mr. Merrill, shrank away before this exhibition of earnest interest and thankfulness. He spoke promptly and to the point. I hardly know how to explain myself, sir. As I said, I am in the dark. I have always been an intellectual believer in the religion of Jesus Christ, but I never felt my need of a personal salvation, nor the absurdity of my position in not seeking it, until last sabbath when my attention was called to the subject. In church, interrupted Mr. Trecevant. Yes, sir, in church. Since that time my mind has been more or less occupied with this theme, and I resolved to begin life anew. But I find it is not so easy a thing as I had supposed. Wherein lies the difficulty? That is more than I know. It is what I am seeking to have explained. As I tell you, I am an intellectual believer, therefore the absurdity of my not being more than that became apparent to me as soon as I gave the subject serious thought. I have been reading my Bible and praying at stated times for several days, but after all I do not see that I am really any different. I have felt no mysterious change such as I supposed I should, and I do not find that I have materially different views from what I had before. I am puzzled and disappointed, and I concluded to come to you as the person best calculated to set me right. Now during this sentence the demon of Mr. Trecevant's life had come upon him again. He was not in special anxiety about this young man. He recognized in him one not far from the kingdom perhaps, whether he reached it once or a few hours later after some stumblings did not seem to the clergymen of special importance. At any rate he left the matter in hand and went back to himself. He had not heard a dozen words of all that Mr. Merrill had been trying to explain to him. His thoughts were very much after this fashion. Last Sabbath at church I wonder if it were at morning or evening service. It must have been morning I think. That was an intellectual sermon calculated to impress a person of clear mind as this young man undoubtedly is. The reason why there are so few conversions at the present day is because the people are such clods that they will not understand or appreciate. If one had people of culture to preach to how much he might accomplish. I caught this young man anyway and he is quite a prominent one. I'll take courage, but I must discover if possible what particular portion of the sermon impressed him the most. At this point in his thoughts he became aware that Mr. Merrill had ceased talking and was regarding him earnestly. Not being conscious that the young man's words needed an answer, of course they received none. Instead he said with some eagerness, Do you refer to the morning or evening service as the time when your thoughts were led to the subject? The morning service Mr. Merrill answered briefly and in disappointed tones. I thought so. I observed you I think as a very attentive listener, and the sermon was one calculated to reach a person of intellect. Now may I ask what particular portion of the sermon it was that particularly arrested your attention? You will pardon the question for we clergymen are obliged to discover, if we can, just when and how our arrows reached the heart that we may be governed by the knowledge in other cases. Mr. Merrill was visibly embarrassed.  I considered your sermon last Sabbath very impressive, sir, and I was deeply interested in it, but I cannot say that it was that which led me to give personal attention to this subject. Oh! said Mr. Trecevant in great and visible disappointment. Would it be allowable for me to inquire what it was then that impressed you? The next glove finger underwent the twisting process, but Mr. Merrill answered more promptly than before. It was merely a brief sentence which a member of your congregation addressed to me as we were passing out of church. It had to do with my personal need of the great one thing of which you had been speaking. For Mr. Trecevant, don't judge him too harshly when I tell you that he was bitterly, overwhelmingly disappointed. His elaborate sermon, on which he had bestowed nearly a week of patient study and careful writing, had interested this young man indeed. He was kind enough to admit that, but it was a chance word spoken by some person as he or she passed out of church that had done the work. He distinctly remembered seeing this gentleman pass down the aisle in conversation with Del Bronson. He had no difficulty in connecting her with the chance word. He said to himself, with unreasoning bitterness, that that girl was always crossing his path, coming between him and his legitimate work. For his part, he was tired of her and wished she would go home. What had become of the heart that a few moments before was in the right place? It was there still. He was heartily and sincerely glad that this young man had decided the great question of life.  He felt it as his right. The feeling was not altogether wrong. At least it had its springs from the right source. Sometimes he had reflected sadly over an unfruitful ministry, very rarely blaming himself it is true. Yet there had been times when he had gone about sorrowfully, seeking fruit and finding none, and his heart had been heavy over the barrenness. He had hailed this young man as the first fruits of an incoming season after long waiting. And although it was a joy to know that here was fruit, it was bitter to be made to understand that it was not of his tending. Meantime he entirely ignored the fact that the soul was not yet garnered but was groping about wearily in darkness. He almost forgot the presence of the waiting soul and fell into a moody silence, from which he presently aroused himself with a long-drawn sigh and a solemn, well, I am certainly glad to welcome you to our side. We need men, young men especially. Our ranks are comparatively few. I give you joy that you have chosen the right way. You will not regret it. This sentence sounded so very much like a courteous dismissal that his collar instinctively arose but remained standing irresolute. He had come searching for light and help. He could not realize that he had received neither. Have you a word of instruction for me, sir? He asked with a sort of eager humility. You remember I told you I was in the dark and a great deal bewildered. Now be it remembered that his pastor had been engaged in a private self-glorification while the young man had been explaining his position, and therefore must answer in the dark, albeit it was a darkness he did not comprehend. He thought he fully understood the case. Oh, I know how it is with young converts, he said, smiling. They want to run before they can walk. You need simply to move quietly along the path of duty and bewildering things will grow plain to you in time. And he too had risen and stood in that attitude of courteous waiting which says, as distinctly as words, I perceive, my dear sir, that you are about to depart, and I am therefore ready to bid you good afternoon. So Mr. Merrill departed, having received a gentlemanly invitation to call again whenever his pastor could be of any service. As he went down the shady side of the street, he felt very little, indeed, like a young convert. Indeed, he told himself that he believed he had been a fool for going there at all. What had he gained? Perhaps the whole thing was folly, anyway, and humbug. No, not that, because father was in heaven and mother was going thither with certain footsteps. And besides that young lady, Miss Bronson, was thoroughly and solemnly in earnest. But it was very bewildering, and he did not know which way to turn. Mr. Tresavant watched him from the door in an absent sort of way, still busy with his own gloomy thoughts, until presently he turned and went very slowly, very reluctantly, upstairs to his waiting wife. Her state of mind had not improved during his absence. She did not even wait for him to close the door before she spoke. I must say, Mr. Tresavant, that you are a remarkably considerate man. Here have I been sitting for nearly an hour with my hat on, ready to go out. What would you have me do, Mr. Tresavant answered coldly? When a gentleman calls to see me, I cannot very well say to him, You must go home, my wife has her hat on, waiting for me. Oh, no, of course you can do nothing but make sport of my inconvenience. It is no sort of consequence how long I am kept waiting. Mr. Tresavant was in no mood to hear unjust censure. His tone was decided in its sharpness. Do, Laura, make use of a little common sense. How on earth can I help it that you have been kept waiting? I certainly am not going to send a gentleman home when he calls to see me, merely because we are ready to make calls, especially when he comes on a particular errand. What was his errand, Mr. Tresavant questioned, in a somewhat mollified tone, curiosity and the hope of a wedding getting the better of her ill-humour. Is he going to be married? Not that I know of. He is going to try to lead a Christian life. Can't he do that without taking up the whole of your afternoon, I should like to know? This in a woefully fretful, disappointed tone. The pastor of the Regent Street Church paused in his gloomy walk up and down the room, and gave his wife the benefit of a very stern look, as he said in very stern tones. Mrs. Tresavant, do you realize upon what subject you are speaking in such tones of indifference or worse? Richly deserved rebuke, but a looker on could not have helped wondering if the clergyman realized in what spirit he was uttering it. As for the half-odd, half-frightened, thoroughly fretted child-wife, she flung herself among the cushions of the couch, regardless for ones of the fair roses blooming on her hat, and burst into tears. CHAPTER XVIII They held a family mass meeting in the back parlor that evening. At least they called themselves the family. Dr. Douglas and his wife were there, so also were Mr. and Mrs. Alec Tyndall. Abby sat beside Del on the low couch near the south window, while the host alternately paced the floor and, pausing, leaned his elbow on the mantel and his head on his hand. As in many a gathering here too fore, Mrs. Dr. Douglas had for some time been chief speaker. At this particular moment she closed her harangue with the telling sentence, I certainly think at the queerest, not to say the most absurd, scheme that I ever heard of. Not even accepting your own proceedings when you became bookkeeper in a box factory, for husband questioned gravely? No indeed, I'll not accept that. The position of bookkeeper in a box factory is, after all, very different from the one that Del proposes. That's just the point, Del said with animation. It's because people draw such wonderfully fine shades of distinction that I feel possessed to overturn some of them, or at least ignore them for myself. But I don't feel fully convinced as to the occasion for such a proceeding, Dr. Douglas said in his grave measured tones. You wish, of course, to assist your uncle. I understand and appreciate that point. But are there not better ways of doing it? For you I mean not for everyone. For instance, haven't you a special talent to use? Music, you mean, of course, Del said eagerly. Yes, I think I have talent in that direction. Whether it is to use just now is another question. I'll take Boston as an illustration. I could secure a music class of 24 there in less than as many hours. First, because of my uncle's former position. And secondly, because the people in our circle know that I can both play and sing. I am a more skillful player and a much better singer than Miss Wheeler, for instance. She is one of a dozen or more poor music teachers, with whom I am acquainted, who are struggling to earn a living in that way. Now, I am not a wit better teacher than any of them. In fact, it isn't in the least likely that I am as good as they, because they have been trained to that work and I haven't. But I should draw my 24 scholars from some or all of their classes, thereby making their miserable income smaller. And there are reasons, this with the deepening of the scarlet on her cheek, why I should not continue in the position long when once assumed. Therefore I should only aid my uncle by supporting myself, a thing which I believe I can do in a way which will not detract from any other person's means of support. Very well put, Dr. Douglas said, with a grave smile, I withdraw my suggestion in regard to the use of the talent. There are other places in the world besides Boston, Mr. Alec Tyndall remarked, and other occupations besides teaching music, Abby added, she had nothing to say on that point, having occasioned to know that the objection which applied to Boston would apply with equal force to Newton, but still she had her word of demure. Your education fits you for a teacher of any branch that is open to ladies. Oh yes, Del said, with increased animation, I am undoubtedly fitted to teach any branch that ever grew. Mrs. Tyndall, how many applicants did you say your husband had listened to in one week in regard to that vacant place in Elm Street? Seventeen, Mrs. Tyndall answered, laughing, and Del turned a serial comic face toward Abby and said in tragic tones, would you have me be the eighteenth?  I'm not one of them. I really don't feel qualified to teach because it would be martyrdom to me. I would much rather be keeper in a state prison. It's a woeful idea that because a woman has nothing else with which to support herself and knows how to read and write, she can therefore teach. Amen, Mr. Sales said emphatically. Essie shall never go to school to a teacher who has not been called to the work from the love of it. She will never go then, laughed Mrs. Douglas. I don't believe there is such a teacher extant. Oh yes, there is, Julia, her husband gravely interposed. I know some faithful teachers who are as much called to the work as a clergyman is to the pulpit. So do I, Del said emphatically. The only trouble is I'm not one of them. The most I could hope to do would be to pray not to hate it. Why don't you follow my illustrious example and retire to the seclusion of a box factory or something of that sort? Mrs. Tindall questioned gaily. Mrs. Douglas has hinted at the reason, Del explained. Even that, Mrs. Tindall, is for some mysterious cause considered more proper, more in keeping with appearances, than to take charge of somebody's commodious, well-arranged kitchen and cook nice wholesome dinners for respectable people. I don't pretend to explain the wherefore in the case, but you all know it is so. At this point, while the company at large were engaged in an eager discussion in regard to certain of the above statements, Del and her hostess indulged in a little aside conversation. I wouldn't feel as I do, only it is so unnecessary a proceeding, Mrs. Sales said, in reproachful tomes. Del, I really thought you had more confidence in me. Whereupon Del laughed, my dear child, she said, I really thought you had more sense. Then seriously, dear Abby, let me tell you about my confidence in you. If I were sick or blind or lame or in any way disabled from doing for myself, I would, in case my Uncle Edward could not care for me, turn to you and your husband, and receive gladly and gratefully your help in any way that I needed it, and thank God joyfully that I had such friends. But I am neither lame nor blind. On the contrary, I have splendid health and strength. Is there any reason on earth why I should not use them for my own support? Abby's sweet sound common sense told her reluctant heart that there was not, so, not choosing to make any audible answer, she let her voice drop still lower and asked, what would Mr. Nelson say to such a strange idea? The rich blood mounted in waves to Del's forehead, but her answer, if answer it could be called, was prompt and bright. You don't know Mr. Nelson. One of these days you will, I hope. Then you will need no reply to that question. Ah, but Del, there are two sides to every question. Why should we jostle against people's prejudices? Why should you, for instance, looking forward to being a clergyman's wife, place yourself in a position that might in certain places and with certain people injure your influence? Theoretically, said Del gravely, I do not believe in jostling against people's prejudices unless some good is to be accomplished by doing so. Practically, I confess that I enjoy doing it when I have a remarkably good chance. But theory will bear me out in this case. You have touched upon one of the main reasons why I want to do this unusual thing. I want to reach the level of this class of persons. I want your cook when I have a talk with her about her duties and her trials to understand that I know precisely what I am talking about. Depend upon it, she thinks, when you talk with her, that it is the same as if an angel direct from one of the stars tried to appreciate the trials of smoky chimneys and burned fingers. I want to be able to say, I know all about it, Jane. I've done it, not for myself, but in that harder place for other people. As for the prejudices, I think they need running against unmercifully. The clamour of voices at the other end of the room grew louder. Above them all finally arose Mr. Sales-Tones, appealing to Del. Miss Del, listen to me. You are called to the front. Stand forward and acquit yourself. This metaphysical doctor of ours is given to probing things. He wants to hear you in your own words explain, if you can, why this is a serious commonsense resolution and not a quixotic idea to be repented of tomorrow. During this sentence the doctor tried to enter a disclaimer, but finding himself outvoiced, bolded his arms in smiling silence. Well, Del said with animation, I shall be delighted to have the floor. I am really burning to make a speech. I know half this audience are looking upon me as a martyr, and the other half think me a goose. I don't believe I'm either. I want to tell you just how it is. During the next six months or so I propose to earn my living. I think I have fairly disposed of the musical question. She paused with an inquiring look bent on Dr. Douglas, who, still smiling, bowed in silence. And the teaching, Del said, still inquiringly. Yes, in the teaching Mrs. Tindall answered promptly, for Jerome said Essie shouldn't be sent to you and our Sadie shan't, and there are no other children worth speaking of. Then, said Del Gailey, what remains? The needle. I hate the very sight of one, and besides the world is full of genteel people who are starving over that weapon, fuller if possible than it is of musical professors and school-mans. The doctor spoke about talents a while ago. Now I honestly think I have another besides music. I know how to cook. I don't dislike to. I don't think there is nearly as much drudgery about it as there is in teaching. That is, you understand, there wouldn't be to me with my tastes. In thinking about my special talent for this sort of work, I was led to inquire narrowly into the feeling that apparently closed that door upon me. I found it had its rise in the popular idea that such sorts of work are degrading. Why, in the name of common sense, people should have such ideas, I don't pretend to say. But the kitchen with its belongings is the only department of labor open to us that does not seem to be overcrowded to an alarming degree, and in that there is an alarming dearth. I don't believe I ever spent two hours in company with two married ladies in my life that they didn't during that time deplore the lack of good help, whereupon Mrs. Douglas and Mrs. Tindall exchanged shrugs and glances, and their respective husbands laughed. Now I'm not at all sure that I should like to be a cook all my life any more than I should like to be a music teacher, but I do feel certain that there is nothing degrading in the position, and I'm very anxious to prove it. I don't expect to reform the world, but I want to help enlighten my special corner of it. I want to know by personal experience what are the special trials of that class of humanity known as help. I want to understand how many of the peculiar trials might be overcome by patient persevering effort on the part of those who are called to endure. Then in my future life whenever I come in contact with a girl of the right stamp who is trying to earn a gentile living by penning herself up in an ill ventilated school room or starving over a needle, I shall be able to advise her to try what I did. Or not to try it, Mr. Alec Tindall said pointedly, in case your experiment fails. Or not to try it, yes, sir. I accept your amendment. I confess that at present it is but a pet theory of mine, and I am very anxious to subject it to the crucible of personal experience.  I might write you a character or two. The company, with the exception of Abbey, received this question with great merriment. She looked grave and perplexed. Abbey is disturbed, said Mrs. Tindall, still laughing. Lest Del might go to Mrs. Roberts, for instance, to try her experiment, in which case it might be necessary to invite both mistress and maid to her tea parties. No, said Del, with an emphatic shake of the head. I will be too wise for that. I shall not go to Mrs. Roberts or Mrs. anybody else who has heard of me before. I am not going to play, but to work in genuine earnest. But, Del, you are going to experiment in Newton, are you not? Not a bit of it. What sort of earnest would there be about that? It would be looked upon as a new scheme for amusement or excitement, and I should be the subject of a nine-day's talk and accomplish nothing. I am going out on the strength of the abilities I possess, not on the strength of the position that I have occupied. There had been during the last few moments a visible lightening of Dr. Douglas's face. He spoke now in clear strong tones. The question is, can we be of any practical assistance? I knew the doctor would get something practical in presently, said Mr. Sales. He has been unpractical a long time for him. I do need your assistance, Del said, a shade of anxiety creeping for the first time into her voice. The assistance of all of you. I very much want to know whether you all disapprove of the scheme as unwise and objectionable. But, before you answer me, I ought to tell you that I have another hope in regard to it, the hope of doing another kind of work, a quiet little special work for Christ in a field that is sadly unreachable now. Her voice was so sweetly earnest and serious that it was impossible to answer her other than in serious words. Dr. Douglas was first. I want to make haste to say that now that I begin to understand the scheme in all its bearings, I appreciate, respect, and honour the one who proposed it. The shade on Del's face visibly lightened. To be appreciated, respected, and honoured by Dr. Douglas was no small thing. The company were disbanded suddenly after that. A messenger came in haste for Dr. Douglas, and the tin dolls grew shocked at the lateness of the hour and hurried homeward. She is a grand girl, Mr. Tin Doll said, as they walked down the quiet street. But after all, Frank, I don't think her plan requires any more moral courage than it took for you to become a shop girl. It requires more Christianity, Mrs. Tin Doll said with feeling. I had no such motive as hers. Oh, Alec, that is what I admire so much in this girl, the looking ahead for work, Christian work, in unsought places. End of Chapter 18, Recording by Tricia G. Mrs. Roberts furnished each of her guests with a huge palm leaf and took one herself, though in her cool, dark parlour such precaution seemed almost unnecessary. Mrs. Tressavante looked particularly cool and bright and bewitching in her blue silk robes and her ravishing bonnet. Mrs. Roberts was valuable at all times, particularly so today. She had a special object in view. Now, my dear Mr. Tressavante, I hope you will be good and obliging and not spoil all my pretty plans. I have not talked them over with a person except my particular friend, Mrs. Arnold, and she and I really planned it together, but I said to her, don't breathe a word of this for the world until we have consulted Mr. Tressavante. Of course, it is perfectly fitting that we should get his opinion, and we do not want to talk over matters of this kind until they have been subjected to his approval. Wily Mrs. Roberts, her husband was a lawyer, but did he ever put a case more skillfully than this? So different this from the way in which they had managed that absurd old folk supper that he quenched. Mrs. Roberts' pastor felt smilingly complacent. It would be difficult in his present mood to combat anything. I have no doubt but that your scheme is very fascinating, he said, with utmost suavity of manner. By all means, let us have the benefit of it. But Mrs. Roberts was not yet ready to put the question. It does seem so pleasant to have you speak in that way, she said with enthusiasm. The truth is, we have not been used to that sort of thing. Dear Dr. Malford was a blessed man. We loved the very ground he tried on. Oh, he was almost perfect. Let it be particularly remembered that this view of the case would have astonished Dr. Malford. He never having the slightest reason to suspect that Mrs. Roberts gave him credit for even an ordinary amount of common sense. But then, who among us but makes mistakes occasionally, the doctor, poor man, did not understand how to unbend from his dignified height for the benefit of the lambs of his flock. He thought they ought all to be satisfied with strong meat. Now I think that children and young people need occasional diversion, and we older people should lay aside our more intellectual preferences once in a while for their benefit. Don't you think so, Mr. Tressavant? Yes, Mr. Tressavant assented, marching into the gracefully laid net with all the alacrity that the famous historical fly could possibly have shown after the spider's courteous invitation. Certainly he believed in a reasonable amount of recreation, and Mrs. Tressavant, on being personally appealed to, assured her hostess that she thought prim young ladies who never needed amusement were perfectly unendurable. And as her hostess had no means of knowing that the pastor's wife made this remark for the benefit of her own husband, because he had told her not two hours before that Miss Del Bronson had sources of amusement within herself, went off into an ecstasy of delight over their united wisdom and good sense. Such a comfort to hear you say so, Dr. Malford. Well, the fact is Dr. Malford was a middle-aged man. To be sure, the poor man was not to blame for growing old, but then some people did manage to retain their youthful feelings, even after they had gray hairs. But that was our dear pastor's one mistake. He could not enter into the feelings of the young people. He frowned upon every idea that had into prayer meeting for its foundation. No one could feel worse than I did when he left us, but I told Mrs. Arnold at the time that I was willing to be sacrificed myself if it would benefit our young people. There are scores of persons in this world who are perfectly willing to be sacrificed on the altar of young people's amusements. I am so glad, repeated Mrs. Roberts, that we have a clergyman who is liberal in his ideas, who has kept up with the times, you know, and understands the needs of the present generation. It is quite a relief to us, I assure you. I cannot tell you how much we appreciate it. Now, if there was anything in this world that Mr. Tressavant coveted, it was to be unlike Dr. Mulford. The man had endured much, you must remember, in having to hear with unfailing pertinacity wherever he went the same old story of Dr. Mulford's perfections. Perhaps he could have borne the story better had he been aware of the fact that Dr. Mulford's thorns in the flesh were the ones who talked the loudest now. But it must be admitted that to the present pastor's rasped human nature, it was a positive relief to hear of some of his imperfections occasionally. When Mrs. Roberts paused for breath, he again suggested his question. What are your present plans, Mrs. Roberts? Oh, nothing formidable at all. Only just a quite little gathering of the young people here in my own house. Only I am going to make it of use to the church. My idea is that young people ought to be taught to cultivate benevolence at the same time that they are enjoying themselves. So I am going to have the guests all dressed in character and have the entire evening an acted-out game of forfeits. I don't quite understand, said the perplexed minister. Don't you? These theologians live so far up in the clouds that they can't be expected to comprehend such foolish little matters. Why, you see, we will give the gentleman the privilege of guessing as many times as they please who the different characters are. Only, for every mistake that they make, they must pay a forfeit of ten cents, and if they guess a right, the one thus discovered must pay the forfeit. And are the guessers expected to judge from the style of dress and the conversation? Oh no, the dress is necessarily quite similar, you know, and the conversation, well, that might assist materially in some cases. Only people have a right to feign a style that is foreign to their own, you know, and indeed it is half the fun to see how well this can be accomplished. I think the tone of the voice is what generally betrays. Don't you, Mrs. Trecevant? More and more mystified grew the minister. This was certainly new business to him. He ventured on further inquiries. I am very dull today, I fancy, but I really do not get the idea. Do I understand that these young people are expected to assume the dress and manner of historic characters of past generations, and that lookers on are to ascertain by their own knowledge of history, and by the degree of excellence with which the characters are sustained, who are the persons thus represented? Oh dear no, but what a delightful idea, Mr. Trecevant. Quite original, I am sure. I never even thought of such a plan. We really must get up a party in that way. It would be so improving to the mind as well as entertaining. Quite a review of one's education. Don't you think it would be delightful, Mrs. Trecevant? I mean to speak to Mrs. Arnold about it this very evening. She is an excellent person to manage such affairs. But about this party of mine, Mr. Trecevant, your wife understands it, I am sure.  Masks, queried Mr. Trecevant, in a voice of such undisguised dismay, that Mrs. Roberts grew twice as valuable. Well yes, I suppose that is the proper name for them, although if you were Dr. Malford I should really be afraid to use the word. The poor dear man had such a horror of it. I ventured to mention the idea of a masquerade party to him at one time.  I supposed, of course, he understood what people in our circle meant by such terms. But you would have been amused at the result. Why, the dear old gentleman was perfectly horrified. I am sure I don't know what he thought a masquerade party in a lady's private parlor was. Something very like a circus I should imagine from the horror he exhibited. I was so amused. But, of course, I dropped the whole matter at once. I respected even my pastor's ignorance too thoroughly to do anything of which he disapproved. Let it go, I said to my friend Mrs. Arnold. We must remember that Dr. Malford is getting to be an old man. We cannot expect him perhaps to be equal to present needs and customs. One of these days we will have a younger pastor, one who will enter heartily into our plans and views for the young. Until then, let us be silent and patient. And Mrs. Roberts folded her white hands and sat back with an air of resignation that would have been beautiful to behold, provided one were far enough advanced in the knowledge of present needs and customs to realize in all its fullness that the private masquerade parties were to be the salvation of the young people. The poor fly in the net was struggling. He had a wholesome horror of masquerades, but he had a greater horror of being like Dr. Malford. And Mrs. Roberts had such a peculiar way of stating things. What in the world led her to be so certain that he would favor her schemes? While he was hesitating and trying to determine what to say, Mrs. Tresivant said it for him. She had not been to a gathering of the sort since she was a gay young girl in her father's house. She should be delighted to come. It would seem so like old times. Mr. Tresivant roused himself. Was it possible that they were expected to grace the scene with their presence? He commenced his sentence somewhat hesitatingly. Mrs. Roberts—but Mrs. Roberts did not like the expression on his face. She was not ready to have him speak yet, so she was conveniently deaf and very valuable. It will be such a delight to have our pastor and his wife mingle with the young people. That is just as it should be. How can we expect to mold our young people to our wishes and control their exuberant spirits if we stand aloof from them and look severely on all their innocent pleasures? That is what I was always telling Dr. Malford. And if they had left the poor man to be guided by his own common sense, I really think he would have done better. But, my dear Mrs. Tresivant, don't you know there are always two or three people in a church who are bent on marking out a path for their pastor and bidding him walk in it? Mrs. Tresivant answered with considerable auspiety. Yes, indeed, she did know it, knew it by personal experience. She thought the Regent Street Church had its share of just such persons. It certainly had, Mrs. Roberts repeated, with a solemn shake of her head, very annoying it must be to a clergyman's family. For her part she never could understand how folks dared to interfere so constantly with what did not concern them. But, of course, the only way for sensible people to do, that is, for people who are strong enough to have minds of their own, was to move quietly on in their own way and let the agitators fume. Then she turned sweetly to Mr. Tresivant. She had decided to let him speak. We would like to have our gathering on Tuesday of next week, if that meets your approval. Is there any reason why you should prefer another evening? It is the evening of the young people's meeting, Mr. Tresivant answered, in doubtful tones. This is Roberts hastened to a tone.  You see, I have no young people of my own to attend the meeting, or my memory would be better. Of course we will change it. Did you look in on Wednesday evening, then? Of course we wouldn't hope to keep you very long, but long enough for the children to understand that you are interested in their sports as well as in everything else that pertains to them. You can't think how glad I am that you are coming. I really must tell you, aside from the pleasure, it is a little bit of a triumph to me. Mrs. Arnold was almost certain you wouldn't. He has been boarding with some of our most rigid extremists, she said to me, and has been thrown a great deal in their set, so nothing would be more natural than that his ideas should be colored by them. But I said emphatically, Mr. Tresivant is not a man to be led against his will. Now you mark my words, he will do just as he pleases, without regard to the prejudices of other people, and he will please to do what will aid him in gaining an influence over the younger portion of his flock. Will Wednesday evening suit you, Mr. Tresivant? Yes, said Mr. Tresivant promptly, and with decision in his tones. I see no objection to that evening. Mr. Tresivant had decided that he was not to be governed by the opinions of the sales-click in this matter. He had a perfect right to do just as he pleased, and he should. CHAPTER 20 The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. Mr. Merrill did not go to the Thursday evening prayer meeting as he had intended. When the Sabbath came he even thought he would not go to church. What's the use, he asked himself wearily. In truth he was almost worn out with this long struggle with his own heart which he did not in the least understand. Mr. Tresivant had missed him from the prayer meeting, had been surprised at first, had half-formed the resolution to go the very next morning and call on him. In fact he had intended to do so, but in a multitude of engagements it had slipped his mind, and when he next thought of the young man it was Saturday and he was very busy, and some way he did not feel as much inclined to go as he had before. So he sat in his study and excused himself with a soliloquy like this. I certainly cannot be expected to run after the young man on Saturday. That is a day devoted to a minister's own private use. Everybody ought to understand that. Besides I haven't finished my sermon. It might have been done if Mrs. Arnold had not driven twice as far yesterday as she engaged to do, and then kept us waiting supper until nearly midnight. Besides I have to go out to tea again this evening. It is quite impossible to make any calls. That young man's impressions, I fear, were very evanescent. Impressions are apt to be that are built on such a sandy foundation. I presume he fancied himself specially interested in Miss Del Bronson, and mistook his interest in her for a desire after higher things. Young gentlemen are apt to make such mistakes. His experience was not very satisfactory if I remember a right. Ah, well, poor fellow, I wish he had been more interested in the subject instead of probably expending his enthusiasm on the person who urged it upon his attention. At a very inopportune time, I presume, too. People generally do. Well, if he comes to church tomorrow, this sermon may be able to reach his case. Thus was Mr. Merrill's case dismissed from his pastor's mind. He, meantime, had launched away the entire mourning of the Sabbath in miserable indecision on the question of going to church. He had not decided that the whole thing was a humbug. People with fathers and mothers who have been earnest, faithful, conscientious Christians rarely come to such conclusions. Instead he was in danger of that other equally fatal blunder of deciding that such things were not for him, that there were those who were not called into this way, and for them there was no help. No use in going to church, he said moodily, and in dressing gown and slippers he lulled in his easy chair. But the bell tolled and tolled. He tried to drown its voice with the mourning paper, no use. Instead of reading, he counted the strokes of the bell, and wondered if that intolerable sexton was going to ding-dong all day. He tumbled over the pile of papers before him in search of yesterday's daily, and strove to become interested in the price's current. But not so had the father who had gone to heaven taught him to reverence the Sabbath. There was no use in trying to turn away from those early teachings. Finally, as the bell tolled on and on, he sprang up impatiently, reached after his boots, kicked away his slippers, and presently, with a muttered sentence that he believed he was a fool for his pains, made his way speedily downtown, and mingled with the worshippers just entering the Regent Street Church. Very few crumbs fell to his share from the sermon that day. He was not in the mood for intellectual feasting, and Mr. Trecevant's sermon was one well-calculated to feed the intellect. But the singing and the Bible reading, yes, the very walls of the church, helped to awaken in his heart that aching sense of some yearning unsatisfied that had possessed him during the week. He went out from the sanctuary with a heavy heart, and it was the same heavy heart, the same unsatisfied longing that took him out later in the day to wander aimlessly down the quiet street. That is, so far as his own purposes were concerned, the wandering was aimless. But the eye of God saw every footstep and directed that they should halt before the Harvard Street Mission Building, just as the scholars and teachers were singing, safe in the arms of Jesus. The melody floating out to him sounded wonderfully sweet, and still following that aimless purpose, or else the guidance of that all-seeing eye, he pushed open the door, and because the first seat at the left was vacant, was the reason why Mr. Merrill sat directly behind Jim Forbes and his class that afternoon. At least, he thought that was the reason. A very rough-looking company had Jim Forbes gathered about him. Millboys, every one of them restless, wriggling scamps, who looked as though to sit still and behave respectively were impossibilities. Yet, after all, there was not one among their number who looked so hopelessly forlorn, as Jim Forbes could remember himself to have looked on that Sabbath not so many years ago when he first became a pupil of Del Bronson. Jim knew all about it, but Mr. Merrill had no conception of any such state of existence. Instead, he looked upon the finely formed, strongly built, neatly dressed man before him, and said to himself, That's a fine-looking fellow. What a set of ragamuffins he has about him. How does he manage them, I wonder? And then he set himself about discovering how this was done. A thing not so easy to do. For, really, after the lesson was fairly commenced, the management, if there was any, was carried on invisibly. The vagabonds actually seemed to be interested. They asked questions and expressed their views with a hardiness and freedom that would have startled and shocked many a teacher less familiar with their type of human nature. How do you happen to understand them so well, Forbes? Mr. Sales, the superintendent, had asked him one Sabbath after the class had dispersed. I've been there myself, sir, Forbes had answered, with a sort of grimness of tone, and yet with a happy smile, the tone in memory of that dark and desolate past, the smile in token of the fact that he was there no more. When the lesson closed, the bell struck for the five minutes of personal work. Mr. Merrill did not understand what this meant and looked on curiously. It meant simply that the teacher who had some special thought to impress upon his entire class took this opportunity for such work, or the teacher who had a word of private conversation with any member of his class had, if he were a skillful teacher, so managed matters that that particular scholar occupied the seat beside himself, somewhat isolated from the rest of the class. This five minutes was understood by all the pupils as being solemn time, and it was a matter of honor with all not being personally addressed to sit with eyes fixed on their open bibles. There was a certain Johnny Thompson, with whom Jim Forbes was anxious to have a word that day, and Johnny occupied the seat beside him and precisely in front of Mr. Merrill. That gentleman looked on in surprise to see the five ragamuffins gravely and decorously open their bibles. Presently, however, his attention was arrested by the voices directly before him. Now, Johnny, what have you to tell me? Nothing very nice, Johnny said, looking down for learnly at the toes gaping through his worn boot. I've tried all the week, prayed a lot, read the Bible a lot more, but taint of any use. I'm exactly the same old fellow I always was. Mr. Merrill was startled and brought suddenly back to his own weary experience. Here it was precisely, told perhaps in more homely language than he would have expressed it, but the very same story. I know all about it, his teacher said, impressively. I did just so. Now, Johnny, we haven't much time, so you just answer me two or three questions, will you? You honestly want to be a Christian, don't you? Yes, I do. There was no doubting the emphasis. You believe that Jesus Christ can take care of you, don't you? Of course he can, said Johnny, not in rudeness but with quiet positiveness. Well then, don't you think it's about time you let him? I don't know what you mean. Don't you? Why you see, you've been all the week waiting for him to make you into a different fellow.  You've read your Bible, and then you have waited for Jesus to come and show you what a wonderful boy you have got to be. You wouldn't treat Mr. Sales so, would you? Suppose you loved Mr. Sales very much. Us fellows all do, interpolated Johnny. I know it, you have reason to. Now we'll say you want to prove it. You believe he thinks a great deal of you and you want to do just as he says.  I want to do just as Mr. Sales tells me to. I think a great deal of him, I want to work for him.  Do you suppose if Mr. Sales should come along, and you should begin to tell him how much you thought of him, and how ready you were to do anything just as he said, that he would believe you were in earnest while you sat there wasting his time? That Johnny understood this figure was evident from his earnestly put question. What had I ought to do?  He may not choose to show you how different you are, but he'll give you something to do, there's no doubt about that, give you something to bear most likely for his sake. Very likely he wants you to show the boys who work next to you that you can get along without being mad when they plague you, that you can keep from throwing mud at Tommy Green when he throws mud at you, and in all these ways you will discover what a different fellow you are. The superintendent's bell rang and all conversation instantly ceased. Jim Forbes sat back with folded arms, and during Mr. Sales questions wondered somewhat sadly if he had made the matter any plainer to Johnny. His teaching seemed to him to use his favorite phrase, a muddle. He knew what he wanted to say, but he never seemed to himself to be successful in saying it. However, he resolved upon taking home some of his own advice. He would work as well as talk. He would keep an eye on Johnny during the week. He would perhaps be able to show him little things that Christ would have him do to prove the love in his heart. Meantime, into the heart of the young man sitting within the sound of Jim's humble teachings, there had burst a great flood of light. As in a glass he saw his own picture reflected. This then was what he had been doing, praying, reading his Bible, then sitting with folded hands waiting for Christ to show him how different he was, not willing, as this young man had said, to let Jesus take care of him, but determined to be shown just how wonderful that care and love were, resolved upon not taking another step until the master had signified his joy over such weak and feeble efforts as had been made. Duties, plenty of them, and he had shirked them all, covering up his delinquencies with the miserable plea that he didn't feel any different, that it was all darkness, that in short, as Johnny had expressed it, he was the same old fellow still. Very distinctly he realized that he had expected to be taken almost bodily and lifted up to some green and flowery mount, where it would be a delight to step, and where every breath would be fragrant with peace. For all this he had waited, waited, and given no token of decision, of change of purpose, change of aims. Nay, there had been no decision, he realized that also, he had simply waited. Twenty-six years of utter indifference to this entire subject, five or six days of restlessness and unhappiness, a half formed resolve, and then the looking for in expecting a sudden and entire revolution of his nature, and because he did not feel it a sudden revulsion of feeling, an indignant resolve to give the whole matter up, a vague feeling that in some way he had been wronged, and that as a sort of revenge he would have nothing more to do with this matter.  Those who knew Mr. Merrill and wondered at his presence in the school, wondered also at the rich full tones with which he joined in the closing hymn, just as I am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bidst me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come. They would have wondered still more could they have looked into his heart and seen the solemn resolve that accompanied the words of consecration. Straight home from the Harvard Street Mission went Mr. Merrill. Home into his own room, locked his door, knelt beside the chair where he had so listlessly lounged but a few hours before, and in solemn deliberate tone said, Just as I am, without one plea, but that thou bidst me come to thee, O Christ, I come. Henceforth give me darkness or light, joy or disquietude, only accept my service and direct my steps anywhere that thou wouldst have me go. Long he knelt there, but his prayer, sometimes voiceless, sometimes finding utterance, was simply a repetition of this act of entire self-surrender without counting the cost or groping about for an immediate crown. And yet it came, came as it often does, suddenly unexpectedly, that crown of joy. He felt it thrill every nerve of his newborn soul. I wish, he said, moving about the room with that strange thrill of gladness pervading him, I wish I could tell Johnny how it is that the Lord takes care of us just as soon as we will let him and gives us the fullness of his love besides. He went to the Regent Street Prayer Meeting that evening. It was held for half an hour before church service. He found some work to do there. It was only to repeat again those lines that were so wonderful to him, just as I am, without one plea, but that thy blood was shed for me, and that thou bidst me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come. But Mr. Merrill will never know, until it is revealed to him in the light of a blessed eternity, how powerful for good were those simple lines that he repeated in prayer meeting that evening. Mr. Trecevant walked the floor of his study after service that evening in a tremor of satisfaction. I knew, he said to himself exultingly, that that sermon would reach his case. He has a very brilliant intellect. End of Chapter 20, Recording by Tricia G. Chapter 21 of Wise and Otherwise The slibber-box recording is in the public domain. Wise and Otherwise by Pansy, Chapter 21 The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but he that harkeneth unto counsel is wise. I don't believe a word of the nonsense, Mr. Sayles said, in a tone that was very irate for him. It is just some abominable gossip.  I wish you ladies had some other business to take up. They were spending the evening, he and his wife, with Mr. and Mrs. Alec Tyndall. Mrs. Tyndall laughed good humoredly, having no tendencies toward that employment herself, and being aware that Mr. Sayles knew it, she was not disturbed by the doubtful compliment. I wish you gentlemen would so conduct yourselves that we wouldn't have so much of it to do, she retorted, with a mimicry of his tone. But about this matter, I am really afraid it is more than gossip. Mrs. Roberts herself told me that both he and Mrs. Tresivant had promised to come. She called on me this afternoon, a thing she rarely does, and I am afraid it was for the express purpose of giving me this bit of news. She kindly expressed sympathy with the dismay that I tried not to show, and assured me that she was perfectly surprised herself. That, although she, of course, considered such amusements perfectly legitimate for young people, still at the same time it was rather queer to think of a clergyman mingling with them. Now she would hardly have said all that without some foundation, would she? There's no telling what that woman may or may not say, Mr. Sayles responded, still in evident ill humor. What such women were created for is sometimes a puzzle to me. Tyndall, do you really suppose the man is going to a masked fall? Oh, Jerome, not quite so bad as that. It was still Mrs. Tyndall's voice that answered him, Mr. Tyndall remaining absolutely silent. It is a private party to be held at her house, and she assured me there would be no dancing until after Mr. Tresivant left. Not that she had the least idea of his objecting to it, she said, but for the purpose of avoiding talk she thought we ought to try to shield our minister's reputation, even though he were a little careless himself. Yes, said Mr. Sayles with a sarcastic drawl, she is a very discreet and considerate woman, no doubt of it. Is there anything that can be done? Mrs. Sayles asked, speaking for the first time, and speaking as she generally did, very simply and to the point. I'm sure I don't know what, growled her husband. If he were a silly boy who could be shut up for 24 hours and fed on bread and water, there might be some hope of him. Oh, Jerome, his wife said, in a tone full of distress. He turned toward her suddenly. I know I am not respectful, my dear, but the man puts me utterly out of patience sometimes. He is our pastor, Mrs. Sayles said gently. Yes, he answered promptly, and I should remember it. Well, has anybody something to suggest? It must be that he has been misled as to the nature of the gathering, Mr. Tyndall said, or has simply accepted the invitation without inquiring into the matter or realizing that it is other than an ordinary evening gathering, his wife added. Then let us take that view of the case for granted and have a straightforward talk with him about it. If he has misunderstood, he will thank somebody for information. Suppose you call on him tomorrow and have the straightforward talk, suggested Mrs. Tyndall, with a gleam of mischief in her eye. Mr. Sayles shrugged his shoulders expressively. There couldn't be a worse individual than myself selected for such delicate matters, he said. My wife knows just how I blunder. Never did succeed while in conversation with Mr. Tressavant when he was an inmate of our house. We always ran against snags. I'm inclined to think that the very sight of me puts him on the defensive. Send Abby, then, said Mrs. Tyndall. To this Mrs. Sayles answered emphatically. No, not a bit of it. Abby had her full share of that sort of thing while they were with us. She and Mrs. Tressavant are too utterly unlike to assimilate enough to be of any benefit to each other, and it is probably Mrs. Tressavant who is at the bottom of this new idea. There seems to be nobody to go, laughed Mrs. Tyndall.  I'll tell you what interrupted Mr. Sayles. Alec, you are just the man. Dr. Douglas is too peppery, and besides has had an errand or two of a similar sort. But you have not come in contact with any of his peculiar ideas, and he will be inclined to treat your opinions with consideration. You will have to go. It is entirely new business to me, Mr. Tyndall said hesitatingly, to dictate to our pastor. I have been accustomed to consider it the people's duty to receive advice from him instead of giving it. I'll risk your dictating to him, Mr. Sayles answered laughing. He is not disposed to receive anything of that sort, and is very prompt to let you know it. No, nothing can be gained by trying to lead him. And, of course, it is not our business to do so. We must just act on the surmise or hope that he is unaware of the nature of the entertainment in question, and perhaps it would be as well to let him know incidentally what is being said by those outside the church on the subject. It was because of this and further conversation on the same topic that Mr. Tyndall found himself, to his own surprise, and not a little to his dismay, waiting the next morning in the further parlor of Mr. Tressavant's hotel for the dissent of that gentleman. This was, as he said, new business to him, deeply interested in all that pertained to the spiritual welfare of the church as he had been since he first became one of its members, earnest as had been his work and his life, he still had taken very little active part in any of its outside issues and shrink from doing so. It was perhaps this fact that made him, as Mr. Sales had said, just the man for the occasion. The talk was on indifferent topics for some little time after Mr. Tressavant's appearance, until his guest, despairing of reaching the object of his visit in any other way, plunged into it. By the way, Mr. Tressavant, you are accustomed to all manner of people. I suppose you have discovered that there are some peculiar ones in our church and perhaps are aware that Mrs. Roberts is one of the number? Now, the instant Mr. Tindall had finished this somewhat blundering sentence, he became aware by the change in his pastor's face that he had made a mistake. Also, that Mr. Tressavant was better posted than himself on the nature of the gathering in Mrs. Roberts parlors. An indescribable stiffness took the place of his former suavity of manner, and he asked, with some haughtiness, to what do you refer? Straightforwardness was Mr. Tindall's motto, the watchword upon which he generally acted, and perhaps he was not sorry to be thus early released from the domain of strategy which he felt that he did not understand and thoroughly disliked. He answered promptly and frankly, I was thinking when I spoke what a strange form for an entertainment given by a Christian woman to take away from me in these enlightened days. Mr. Tressavant was clearly not inclined to assist him. His answers consisted of brief and somewhat haughtily put questions. Why so? It was certainly an easy way of carrying a conversation. Mr. Tindall resolved to resort to it. Perhaps I have been misinformed. Is she to have a masquerade party at her house on Wednesday evening? Something of that nature, I believe. What is the matter with masquerade parties when properly conducted, Mr. Tindall? When are they properly conducted? Mr. Tindall asked with a quiet smile. When they are given by a Christian lady in her own private parlor for the pleasure and profit of the young people, at least I am charitable enough to hope that they will be properly conducted until I see reason to believe to the contrary. They were not making very rapid progress. Mr. Tindall was already nearly convinced that his call was to be in vain and felt very much inclined to drop the question in Vita retreat. But there was one difficulty in the way. He had but half displayed his own colors. The furl them now seemed cowardly. I am sorry to see our young people, especially the young people of our church and Sabbath school, obliged to resort to such questionable pleasures, he said gently, but with the courteous dignity of manner that was natural to him. Why questionable, Mr. Tresivon answered with a superior smile? Because unnatural and because of their tendency to foster a taste for scenes and places that cannot be entered into without harm. But, my dear friend, why should the fact that a company of merry boys and girls, all well acquainted with each other, choose to assume a fanciful disguise for the purpose of sharpening the wits and enjoying the blunders of their companions be so formidable a thing? Do you consider it a profitable and unharmful way of spending an evening? Certainly I do, was Mr. Tresivon's prompt answer, and had his guest been as well acquainted with him as were Mr. Sales and Dr. Douglas, he would have known that so far as any hope of influencing his pastor now was concerned, he might take his hat and depart as well first as last. Mr. Tresivon had made a positive statement, and to change his views, or at least to admit a change of views, was in his estimation an absolute disgrace. But Mr. Tyndall did not know his pastor in this respect, and besides he was very much astonished. Indeed there were several respects in which he did not know him very well. You differ from most of our church in this view, do you not, sir? He asked in surprise. Very probably, Mr. Tresivon answered, composedly, he did not object to differing from people in general. He believed himself to be an original man. Our church does not profess to be infallible, he added, still with that superior smile. But Mr. Tresivon let us understand each other, said Mr. Tyndall, growing much in earnest. Suppose the young people of whom you speak were not all well acquainted with each other. Suppose they were not in a private parlor, but in this hotel for instance, and a promiscuous masked company were mingling freely together. What guarantee have mothers that their daughters shall not be insulted by gross language, such as should never greet their ears, or commence an acquaintance that shall be lifelong in its disgrace and sorrow? If you descend to the domain of supposition you can make out extraordinary cases. One can suppose anything you know, and I hope you will pardon me for saying that you have in this instance given free range to your imagination. I was not speaking of a promiscuous company assembled in this or any other hotel, but of the class of society that Mrs. Roberts is in the habit of entertaining in her private parlors. I know, and I was speaking of the danger of fostering a taste for questionable amusements and questionable places. How can you be certain this very entertainment will not develop in some innocent girl, belonging for more excitement of the same sort? Mr. Trecevant laughed sarcastically. That is peculiar reasoning, is it not, Mr. Tindall? You are not a lawyer by profession, I perceive. How can we be certain that every little innocent thing we say or do may not in some mysterious way be the means of leading others astray? If we reason after that fashion, there will be very little left for us to occupy ourselves in. My theory is that if we furnish our young people with a reasonable amount of amusements under our own eye, they will be much less likely to seek for them in questionable places. Would you reason in that manner in regard to other amusements? For instance, would you advocate parlor card tables in order that young men shall not be tempted into gambling saloons and home wine drinking to lessen the fear of their becoming drunkards and private theatricals to neutralize a taste for the theater? Mr. Tindall's voice and manner were cool and composed, but there was perhaps a little flash of sarcasm in his eyes. In truth, he suspected his pastor's perfect sincerity, believing him to be too sharp a man to be caught himself in any of the traps that he was so smoothly spreading out for his guest. But Mr. Trecevant answered him promptly. We should doubtless differ even in regard to those things. I have often questioned whether in many families the reins were not too tightly drawn, thus causing a grievous rebound. But those are not the topics under present consideration. Allow me to remind you. Mr. Tindall was rapidly losing his patience. He did not wonder that Mr. Sales and his pastor had assumed defensive attitudes toward each other if such were the style of argument in which the latter often indulged. What was the use of wasting time in talking to a man who declined making a single straightforward reply but contented himself with composedly stating general principles in which all the Christian world were agreed provided one did not twist and warp those principles to make them fit some peculiar idea of their own. Mr. Tindall realized more fully than he had before that he at least was not fitted for this present mission. He doubted if anyone were. At least, Mr. Trecevant, he said, laying aside all circumlocution and all prudence, I trust that rumor has slandered you when it reports that yourself and Mrs. Trecevant are to be among Mrs. Robert's guests on next Wednesday evening. Mr. Trecevant's face visibly darkened and his voice grew haughty. Dame Rumor is deeply interested in my affairs, he said with emphasis. I ought to be thoroughly accustomed to her interference by this time, but for once I must give her credit for being more truthful in her reports than usual. Mrs. Trecevant and myself have the honor of being among the invited guests. Then you will pardon the suggestion that I have to make that you will think again of this matter before you accept the invitation. Mr. Tindall had laid aside his half-annoyed tone and spoke earnestly and respectfully. I know I am treading upon delicate ground and seeming to interfere with personal matters, but I beg you to believe that such is not my design. I remember that you are a very busy man, that your time and thoughts are occupied with matters entirely foreign to the one in hand, and it would not be strange if you failed to realize the effect that your presence at such an entertainment will be likely to produce among some of our people. There are Christian parents in our church who are feeling deeply in regard to this very matter. They have withheld their consent to their children's acceptance of this invitation, not deeming it a wise amusement for them. And they are wondering whether it can be true that their pastor is countenancing the proceeding, and much talk is being made about it. I thought it my duty, as one of your flock, to inform you of the state of things in order that the unnecessary agitation might be suppressed and no harm be done to anyone. CHAPTER XXII. YE ARE WISE IN CHRIST. To this very earnest and not very wise address, Mr. Trecevant made a frigid vow. I am exceedingly obliged to you for your disinterested kindness in coming to me, he said, with very cold measured words. But your suggestion comes too late for me to give it due consideration, as I have already passed my word to Mrs. Roberts that I will be present at her little entertainment, and I never break my word. Besides, it is but right that I should inform you that I never really pay any attention to this style of gossip that is always afloat through a town. I have found it the wisest and pleasantest to preserve the even tenor of my way without regard to what people may chance to say about me. I might as well be the subject of their tongues as any one. And really one grows perfectly indifferent to this sort of thing after a while, that is, if one happens to have matters of more importance with which to occupy the mind. Now such style of talk is particularly exasperating to a sincere mind because of the semblance of truth and good sense that floats provokingly through the mass of nonsense. It sounds so altogether reasonable and sensible for people to be above the gossip of foolish tongues. It is such a different thing to give heed to the talk sufficiently to be sure that you are not rolling unnecessary stumbling blocks in people's way. It is so easy a thing to set all the talk down under the general head of gossip and turn away from it in calm superiority. Mr. Tindall's momentary vexation had passed away, but he began to feel grieved and hurt. I did not mean to trouble your ears with foolish gossip, he said in a constrained voice. I thought you understood me as referring to some of our own people, Christian parents, who are really in trouble and who need your help. Christian parents have certainly a right to do as they please in this matter. If they do not see fit to give their consent to the presence of their children at the entertainment, they have perfect liberty to keep them away. Only, I trust you will pardon me for saying, that they must be willing to accord the same right of choice to their pastor. I have been very much in the habit of following out my own views without regard, as I said, to the talk of any class of people. I shall do so in this case. While I thank you for your frankness and honor your motives, I will compliment you by being equally frank and assuring you that it is my present intention to spend next Wednesday evening with Mrs. Roberts. I have, as I said, passed my word and shall not break it unless something in providence prevents my being present. I presume you have all seen people who have appeared to be much more composed and at ease than they really were. The truth is Mr. Tresavant was in an inward fume. No sooner had he bowed his guest from his presence than he tramped up and down the room like an enraged animal in a cage. This was not his first hour of reasoning about the subject in question. I regret to say that he was trying to argue himself into a frame of mind that he was really very far from believing. On this bewildering and much talked of question of amusements, he had supposed himself to be quite decided, and had not Mrs. Roberts, with her incessant repetition of Dr. Mulford's name, gotten the better of his wisdom, there would have been no trouble whatever. So it had been all the more provoking to listen to Mr. Tyndall's arguments and feel that if he only chose to allow himself to do so, he could argue with them very well. And yet that is not precisely just to him either. People who are self-blinded cannot be expected to realize their own positions. This bewildered man did not. He imagined that he had somewhat modified his views, that under existing circumstances it was expedient for him to do so, but it was exceedingly disagreeable to be called in question for the change. The contemptible nuisance, he said in his rage, why does he want to come whining around me taking my time and bothering his brains in trying to argue with me? I wish people would mind their own business, such a meddling community I never conceived of before, all emanating from one particular quarter, too. I wouldn't be afraid to venture considerable that that pattern, Mrs. Sales, is at the bottom of this interference. In ordinary states of mind Mr. Trecevant was too much of a gentleman and too much of a Christian to indulge in such an ebullation of wrath. Indeed, he repented of this in less than half an hour, even though the chairs and sofas were the only eyewitnesses of it except, indeed, that never-failing, never-closing eye, which it is very strange we are all so apt to forget when we say nobody saw me, nobody knows it. The clergyman went presently to his own room and reduced his wife to the very borders of insanity by arguing the other side of the question with her in a way that would have amazed and delighted Mr. Tyndall. I did no sort of good, that gentleman said, after detailing the result of his morning visit to an interested audience in Dr. Douglas's parlor, said audience consisting of his wife and Mr. and Mrs. Sales, besides their host and hostess. These six people can try to spend many evenings together. In fact I am afraid I did positive harm. I seemed to vex him unaccountably. It was a decided mistake, good people, to send me on such a mission. I am not suited for it. Perhaps you will kindly mention the person who is under existing circumstances, sarcastically remarked Mr. Sales. For my part I think you managed very well. I'm afraid I should have pulled the hair of the reverend gentleman or boxed his ears or something. Jerome murmured the soft-choned, troubled voice of his wife. Well, my dear, I mean figuratively speaking, of course. That is, I mean there would have been a strong inward tendency in that direction, which I trust I should have had the grace to resist. But when a gentleman condescends to act like a rude boy, as our pastor evidently did, there is no accounting for results. No, said Mr. Tyndall thoughtfully. He was courteous in his manner, though his words were sometimes sharp. And I was continually haunted with the feeling that he didn't mean what he said.  With the natural perversity of human nature, the very people whom one would expect to be pleased with the existing state of things profess to be shocked, so that in reality Mr. Trecevant cannot have the comfort of pleasing anybody. Mrs. Arnold and her friends affect to be as much astonished as anybody. A little bit queer in a clergyman to attend, you know. After me, I hope you won't consider it his duty to wear a mask. And then she went off into one of her absurd laughs. Julia, Mr. Trecevant would certainly consider us as gossiping, her husband said gravely. It is true, though, interposed Mr. Sales. I have been struck with that very feature today. Both saints and sinners seem to be agreed for once in their lives. Even the boys in the factory have talked the matter over. Our Sabbath schoolboys, you know, some of the wildest of them are growing hilarious over it, exaggerating the entertainment in every possible manner, and giving Mr. Trecevant an absurd position in it. Some of them do it for the purpose of teasing poorbs, and some of them actually believe every word of it. I heard poor poorbs struggling hard to smooth matters over and do honor to his pastor and the truth at the same time. And coming uptown, Judge Wardell hailed me to inquire if I were going to attend the Orthodox Theater next week and if it were to be opened with prayer. He said he heard our pastor was to be prominent in the performance. The thing is actually town talk. I never saw anything fly around so. How could it have become so general? Mrs. Roberts and Mrs. Arnold have taken care of that, Mrs. Tindall said, with the air of one who knew whereof she affirmed.  Mr. Sale shrugged his shoulders expressively. If the doctor were not at one elbow and my wife at the other to look unutterable things at me, I should suggest that his object was not so much the conciliation of one class of people as the discomforture of another class, he remarked solemnly, and added, but as it is, I think it best to preserve a discreet silence. Dr. Douglas was slowly pacing the length of the room, apparently in deep thought.  Isn't this talk that we are having worse than useless, provided nothing comes of it but talk? His voice was grave and sad. What on earth can come of it but talk? Feared Mr. Sales, we can't order our pastor what to do and what not. We cannot even advise with him as Christian brethren it seems, and it is very evident that we can't keep his actions from becoming the subject of public gossip. What is there left to do? There is one thing Dr. Douglas answered earnestly, and instantly there was a lightening up of Mrs. Sales' face, she had caught his meaning. Yes, she said earnestly, I had been thinking of that. I'll be hanged if I'm sharp enough to see it, Mr. Sales said emphatically. What do you propose, a straight jacket? We can pray, Dr. Douglas said simply and earnestly. A sudden silence fell on the group, evidently but two of them had remembered that wonderful resource always at hand. It is like the never closing eye, a power so easily forgotten. Mr. Sales was the first to recover himself. You are right, doctor, he said gravely. It is a resource that we should have tried first of all. I personally am too apt to forget that God rules in these minor matters as well as in the great affairs of life. We are all too apt to forget it, the doctor answered. Now, dear friends, I propose we act in this matter as become those who profess to believe in an overruling providence. I know we have none of us been talking about it simply for the sake of talking. We are all grieved. We all feel that this is not for the glory of God and the good of our dear church. We have done what we could to prevent it without any apparent result. We began backward perhaps, as Jerome says. Now let us go to the great head of the church and leave the matter in his hands. He can prevent this thing which seems to us so unfortunate. He has his cause more at heart than we possibly can. It will help us to pray for our pastor. I think perhaps we have been remiss in our duty to him in this respect. I have nearly an hour before it will be necessary for me to go out professionally. I propose that we adjourn to my office and make it an hour of prayer. What say you all? I am heartily in accord with the idea, Mr. Sales said promptly. I propose also that we remember to pray for ourselves, that we, or at least I, speaking for myself, may be able to put on more of that charity which hopeeth all things and thinketh no evil. I, responded Dr. Douglas with energy. I feel the need of that prayer. I am sorely tempted in that very direction. Then they all went to the office. There was no embarrassment about this proceeding. It was not a novel thing to them. These six people had not met together so constantly to talk over everything that concerned or interested them without going often together to their common father.  There was an outer office for professional and business calls fitted up in business-like manner. Boiled cloth on the floor and high-backed leather and armchairs rose of bookcases on either side filled with solemn-looking medical works. One end occupied with a great army of bottles and boxes shining through their glass doors. But an unpretending little door in one corner led away from all this business-like dignity into the quietest of green-carpeted, green-curtained rooms. Into this inner office, none but intimate friends penetrated. It was here that the busy doctor snatched his few moments of unprofessional reading or took a bit of rest on the large old-fashioned green lounge while his wife read to or talked at him as she sometimes termed it. Hither also came the baby occasionally to pull her father's hair or ride on his slippers if he happened to be so fortunate as to have gotten them on before the office bell rang. But what more than anything else had consecrated this room was the atmosphere of prayer. Many and many a time, either alone or with his wife, or occasionally with a professional friend, had this Christian doctor wrestled in prayer for the pain-wracked body of some patient. Many a time had he gone out from that room strung with a sense of answered prayer and the town had marveled afterward over some wonderful cure. On the evening in question, the petitions were unusually earnest. It certainly would have warmed Mr. Trecevon's heart if he had heard them for himself, his wife, his influence, his church. As for Abby, her heart went out toward Mrs. Roberts, not only that she might not do injury to the cause of Christ, but that she might not injure her own soul. I am glad you remembered her, Mrs. Tindall said, as they talked familiarly together between the prayers. I believe I was feeling too thoroughly provoked with her to remember to pray for her, but one cannot feel so after trying to pray. The little mantle clock was striking when Mr. Sales concluded his prayer. I must go, Dr. Douglas said, as the sound reached his ear. Thank you all. I have been helped, whatever the Lord may see fit to send an answer to our special pleading. Don't let us forget to renew these petitions in our closet prayers tonight and afterward. Julia, don't wait for me. I fear I shall be late. Good night all. And the busy doctor went his way to visit houses where they were waiting eagerly for him and hung anxiously on his every look. How blessed for them and for him that he came to them armed with prayer. End of chapter 22, recording by Tricia G.