CHAPTER XVI. "An invitation to Professor Joliette's," and Isabelle tossed a

CHAPTER XVI.

"An invitation to Professor Joliette's," and Isabelle tossed a gilt-edged card across the table to Marion; "Wednesday evening. It's not a very long invitation. What dress will you wear?"

"But you are engaged, Marion," said Evadne; "Wednesday evening, you know."

"Yes," said Marion with a sigh, "it is awkward. I do wish they would choose some other night for prayer meeting. Wednesday seems such a favorite with everybody."

"What a little prig you are getting to be, Evadne!" said Isabelle with a sneer. "Your only diversion seems to be prayer meeting and church. You are as bad as Aunt Marthe."

"Aunt Marthe a prig! Oh, that is too funny!" and Evadne gave one of her low, sweet laughs. "Besides, does keeping one's engagements constitute a prig, Isabelle? You wouldn't think so if you were invited to the President's reception."

"The President's reception! What does get into the child! I don't see much analogy between the two cases. No one considers prayer meeting a binding engagement, and I'm sure we go as often as we can."

"Not binding!" echoed Evadne. "So Christ is not of as much importance as the President of the United States!"

"You do have such a way of putting things, Evadne!" said Marion thoughtfully. "I expect we had better refuse, Isabelle."

"Refuse,--nonsense!" said Isabelle sharply. "You always meet the best people at the Joliettes',--besides, why should we run the risk of offending them?"

"Why should they run the risk of offending you, by choosing a night they know you cannot come?" asked Evadne.

"Ridiculous! What do they care about our church concerns? The Joliettes are foreigners. People in polite society do not give religion such an unpleasant prominence as you delight in, Evadne. For my part, I consider it very bad form."

"Breakers ahead, Evadne," said Louis with his cynical laugh. "Good form is Isabelle's fetich. Woe betide the unlucky wight who dares to hold an opinion of his own."

"But," said Evadne, the old puzzled look coming into her eyes, "I wish I could understand. Are Christians ashamed of the religion of Jesus?"

"That's about the amount of it, little coz. It is a sort of kedge anchor which they keep on board in case of danger. For my part I think it is better to sail clear. It is only an uncomfortable addition which spoils the trim of the ship."

"Oh, Louis, don't!" exclaimed Marion with a sigh. "It is so hard to know what is right! Sometimes I wish I were a nun, shut up in a convent, and then I should have nothing else to do."

"Doubtless the Lord would appreciate that sort of faithfulness," said Louis gravely, "although I notice Christianity seems to be a sort of Sing-Sing arrangement with the majority. Everything is done under a sense of compulsion, and the air is lurid with trials and lamentations and woe. It is not an alluring life, and, in my opinion, the jolly old world shows its sense in steering clear of it."

"Your irreverence is shocking, Louis," said Isabelle severely, "and you are as much of an extremist as Evadne. No one could live such a life as you seem to expect. Religion has its proper place, of course, but I do not think it is wise to speak of the deep things of life on all occasions."

"'I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified,'" quoted Evadne. "Was Paul mistaken then?"

"Certainly, my dear coz," said Louis, as he prepared to leave the room. "The greatest men are subject to that infirmity. The only one who has never been mistaken is Isabelle."

* * * * *

"It is so provoking that we cannot have the carriage," grumbled Isabelle, as, when Wednesday evening came, they waited for Louis in the dining-room. "At the Joliettes' of all places! I am sure I don't see, Papa, why you cannot insist upon Pompey's taking some other night off when we need him on Wednesdays. It is horribly awkward!"

Her father shook his head as he slowly peeled an orange. "Because I have given him my word, my dear. The only stipulation he made when I engaged him was that he should not be required to drive on Sundays and Wednesday evenings, and, when I hear people complaining about their surly, incapable coachmen, I consider it is a light price to pay. Pompey is as sober as a church and as pleasant-tempered in a rain storm as a water-spaniel,--no matter what hour of the night you keep him waiting; so it is the least we can do to let the poor fellow be sure of one evening to himself;" and the Judge opened his Times and began to study the money market.

"Well," said Isabelle crossly. "I, for one, don't believe in allowing servants to have such cast-iron rules. It savors too much of socialism."

"Exactly so," said Louis from the doorway, where he stood leisurely buttoning his gloves. "You will never pose as the goddess of liberty, _ma belle soeur_. It is a good thing that Lincoln got the Emancipation bill signed before you came into power, or dusky millions might still be weeping tears of blood."

Isabelle swept past him with an indignant toss of her head, and the front door closed after the trio with a metallic clang.

"I don't wonder the poor child is annoyed," said Mrs. Hildreth as she played with her grapes. "It is very embarrassing when people know that we keep a carriage; and the Joliettes are such sticklers in the matter of etiquette. It is a ridiculous fad of yours, Lawrence, to be so punctilious."

"But, my dear, I gave him my word of honor!"

"What if you did? There are exceptions to every rule."

"Not in the Hildreth code of honor, Kate."

"Nonsense! What does a colored coachman understand about that! Why, Evadne, you cannot go to prayer meeting alone!" she exclaimed, as Evadne came into the room with her hat on. "Your uncle is busy and I am too tired, so there is no way for you to get home."

"I am going to Dyce's church, Aunt Kate. Pompey will bring me home."

"Among a lot of shouting negroes! You must be crazy, child!"

"Their souls are white, Aunt Kate, and there is no color line on the Rock of Ages."

"Oh, well, tastes differ," said her aunt carelessly, "but it is a strange fancy for Judge Hildreth's niece. Next thing you will suggest going to board with Pompey."

"I might fare a good deal worse," said Evadne with her soft laugh. "Dyce keeps her rooms like waxwork and she is a capital cook."

"Really, Evadne, I am in despair! You have not an iota of proper pride. How are you going to maintain your position in society?"

"I don't believe I care to test the question, Aunt Kate; but I think my position will maintain itself."

"Well said, Evadne," said her uncle, looking up from his paper. "You will never forget you are a Hildreth, eh?"

"Higher than that, uncle," said Evadne softly. "I am a sister of Jesus Christ."

"I don't know what to make of the child," said Mrs. Hildreth discontentedly, as the door closed behind her. "I believe she would rather associate with such people than with those of her own class. She has a bowing acquaintance with the most _outré_ looking individuals I ever saw. I really don't think Dr. Jerome is wise setting young girls to visit in the German quarter. It doesn't hurt Marion, now. She only does it as a disagreeable duty and is immensely relieved when her round of visits is made for the month, but Evadne takes as much interest in them as if they were her relations. Next thing we know, she will be wanting to take up slum work. I hope she won't come to any harm down among those crazy blacks. They always seem to get possessed the moment they touch religion."

"I do not think Evadne will ever come to any harm," the Judge said slowly. "The Lord takes pretty good care of his own."

His wife looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I fully intended going to prayer meeting myself to-night," she said, "but it gets to be a great tax,--an evening out of every week,--and I do dread the night air so much."

Mrs. Judge Hildreth dipped her jeweled fingers into the perfumed water of her finger glass and dried them on her silk-fringed napkin. "Oh, Lawrence, don't forget Judge Tracer's dinner to-morrow night. You will have to come home earlier than usual, for it is such a long drive, and it will never do to keep his mulligatawny waiting. And, by the way, I made a new engagement for you to-day. Mrs. General Leighton has invited us to join the Shakespearean Club which she is getting up. It is to be very select. Will meet at the different houses, you know, with a choice little supper at the close. She says the one she belonged to in Atlanta was a brilliant affair. She comes from one of Georgia's first families, you remember."

"A Shakespearean Club!" and Judge Hildreth smiled incredulously. "Why, my dear, I never knew you and the immortal Will had much affinity for each other!"

"Oh, of course it is more for the prestige of the thing. Mrs. Leighton said the General assured her you would never find leisure for it, but I said I would promise for you. It is only one evening a week you know. She thinks we Americans retire far too early from the enjoyments of life in favor of our children, and I believe she is right. I certainly do not feel myself in the sere and yellow," and Mrs. Judge Hildreth regarded herself complacently in the long mirror before which she stood. "You will manage to make the time, Lawrence?"

"What other answer but 'yes' can Petruchio make to 'the prettiest Kate in Christendom'?" replied the Judge, bowing gallantly to the face in the mirror as he came up and stood beside his wife. It was a handsome face but there was a hardness about it, and the lines around the mouth which bespoke an indomitable will, had deepened with the years.

"Only one evening a week, Kate, but you thought that too much of a tax just now."

"How absurd you are, Lawrence! When shall I make you understand that there are sacrifices that must be made. We owe a duty to society. We cannot afford to let ourselves drop wholly out of the world."

A little later Judge Hildreth entered his library with a heavy sigh. He had attained the ends he had striven for, he was respected alike in the church and the world, he held a high and lucrative position, he had a well appointed home, over which his handsome wife presided with dignity and grace, and yet, as he took his seat before his desk in the lofty room whose shelves were lined with gems of thought in fragrant, costly bindings, life seemed to have missed its sweetness to Lawrence Hildreth.

Evadne's words haunted him, and, like an accusing angel, the letter which still lay hidden under the mass of papers in the drawer which he never opened, seemed to look at him reproachfully.

"A sister of Jesus Christ." Sisters and brothers lived together. Was it possible that Jesus Christ could be in this house,--this very room? The idea was appalling. He was familiar with the truism that God was everywhere, but he had never really believed it; and, as the years passed, he had found it convenient to remove him to a shadowy distance in space, less likely to interfere with modern business methods. Jesus Christ, enshrined in a far off glory among his angels, appealed to the decorum of his religious sentiment; but Jesus Christ, face to face, to be reckoned with in the practical details of honesty and fair dealing; that was a different matter. And this was the violation of a dead man's trust, who had put everything in his power because he had faith in him!

He saw again the young brother, handsome, easy-going to a fault, but with a sense of honor so fine as to shrink in indignation from the slightest breath of shame; read again the closing words of the farewell letter which he had read for the first time on the day now so long ago, which he would have given worlds to recall, and which, from out the shadowy recesses of eternity, laughed at his futile wish.

"So, my dear brother," the letter ran, "I am giving you this responsibility as only a brother can. I have left Evadne absolutely untrammelled. I have no fear that my little girl will abuse the trust. She is wise beyond her years, with a sense of honor as keen as your own."

The Judge's head sank upon his hands. It was for Evadne's good he had persuaded himself. She was too much of a child,--and now,--the letter could not be delivered. It meant disgrace and shame. It was his duty as a father to shield his family from that. How well he could picture Evadne's look of bewildered, incredulous surprise, and then the pain, tinged with scorn, which would creep into the clear eyes. And Jesus Christ! The Judge's head sank lower as he heard the voice which has rung down through the ages in scathing denunciation of all subterfuge and lies.

"Woe unto you ... hypocrites! for ye tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice and mercy and faith."

"Woe unto you ... hypocrites! for ye cleanse the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full from extortion and excess."

"Woe unto you ... hypocrites! for ye are like unto whited sepulchres which outwardly appear beautiful, but inwardly are full of dead men's bones."

Lower and lower sank the Judge's head, until at last it rested upon the desk with a groan.

* * * * *

They were singing when Evadne reached the humble church which Dyce and Pompey called their spiritual home. The walls were white-washed and the seats were hard, for the "Disciples of Jesus" possessed but little of this world's goods. Two prayers followed, full of rich imagery and fervid passion, and then a young girl with a deep contralto voice began to sing,--

"Steal away, steal away, Steal away to Jesus! Steal away, steal away home, We ain't got long to stay here."

The soft, deep notes of the weird melody ended in a burst of triumph, and Evadne bent her head while her tired heart thrilled with joy. When she looked up again Dyce was speaking.

"I've ben thinkin', friens," she said, "that we don't get the sweetness of them words inter our hearts ez we should. We'se too much taken up wid de thought of de heavenly manshuns to 'member dat de King's chillen hez an inheritance on de earth. We'se not poor, lonesome people widout a home! De dear Christ promised, 'I will not leave youse orphans, I will come to youse,' an' he who hez de Lord Jesus alongside, hez de best of company. 'Pears like we don't let our Father's message go any deeper dan de top of our heads. Ef we believes we'se preshus in his sight,--an' de Bible sez we is,--we'll hev no occashun fer gettin discouraged, fer de dear Lord's boun ter do de best fer his loved ones. Ef we'se keepin' company wid Jesus we'se no call ter want de worl's invitashuns, an ef we'se hidden away in Christ's heart dere's no need fer us ter be frettin' about de little worriments of earth. Satan don't hev no chance where Jesus is. Ef we'se tempted, friens, an' fall inter sin, it's 'cause we'se not livin' close ter de Saviour.

"I knows we allers tinks of a home as a place where dere is good times, an' dere don't seem much good times goin' for some of us in dis worl', but dere ain't no call fer us ter spec' ter be better off dan our Lord, an ef we'se feedin' on de Lord Jesus all de time we won't min' ef de worl's bread is scarce; de soul ain't dependin' on dem tings fer nourishmen' an' de Lord Jesus makes de hard bed easy an' de coarse food taste good.

"'Tain't good management fer us ter be allers groanin' in dis worl' while we 'spect ter be singin' de glory song up yonder. De best singers is dem dat's longes' trainin' an' I'se feared some of us'll find it drefful hard ter git up ter de proper concert pitch in heaven ef we sings nuthin but lamentashuns on earth. De dear Lord don't seem ter hev made any sort of pervishun for fault findin'. He 'low dere'll be trubble, but he tells us ter be of good cheer on account of hevin' him ter git de victry fer us, an' ef we keep singin' all de time, dere ain't no time fer sighs. Let us keep a-whisperin' to our Father, my friens. It's a beautiful worl' he's put us in, an' dere ain't no combine ter keep us back from enjoyin' de best tings in it. De sky belong ter us ez much as to de rich folks, an' de grass an' de trees an' de birds an' de flowers; de rollin rivers an' de mighty ocean belongs ter us. De only priviluge de rich folks hez is dat dey kin sail on deir billows while we hez ter stan' alongside,--but dey's powerfu' unhappy sometimes when dey hez so much ter look after, an' we kin enjoy lookin' at deir fine houses widout hevin' any of de care.

"We'se not payin' much complimen' ter Jesus, friens, when we 'low dat de good tings of dis worl' kin make people happier dan he kin, an' 'pears like we ought ter be 'shamed of ourselves. De Bible sez we'se ter 'live an' move an' hev our bein' in God,' an' it don't 'pear becomin' when we hev such a home pervided fer us, ter be allers grumblin' 'cause we can't live in de brown stone fronts an' keep a kerridge. We don't begin ter understan' how ter live up ter our privilegus, friens, an' I'se bowed in shame as I tink how de dear Lord's heart must ache as he sees how little we'se appresheatin' his lovin' kindness."

The tender, pleading voice ceased and then Dyce lifted her clasped hands,--"Oh, Lord Jesus, help us ter glorify thee before de worl'. Help us ter understan' an 'preciate de wonderful honor thou hez put upon us. Make us used ter dwellin' wid thee on de earth, so as we won't feel like strangers in heaven. Oh, blessed Jesus, by de remembrance of de thorn marks an' de nail prints an' de woun' in thy side forgive thy ungrateful chillen. We'se ben a' lookin' roun on de perishin' tings of earth fer our comfort, an' a' seekin' our homes in this worl'. Lord, help us ter find our real home in thee! Help us ter steal away ter Jesus, when de storm cloud hangs low and de billows roar about our heads. Dere's no shadows in de home thou makes, fer 'de light of de worl' is Jesus,' an' ebery room is full of de sunshine of thy love. Dere's no harm kin cum to us ef we'se inside de fold, fer thou art de door, Lord Jesus; dere's no danger kin touch us ef we'se hidden in de cleft of de rock. Lord, make us abide in de secret place of de Almighty an' hoi' us close forever under de shadow of thy wing."

Then the congregation dispersed to the humble homes, glorified now by the possibility of being made the dwelling-place of the King of kings.

“One work. Many languages. One reading experience.”