Ester Ried Part 17

continued Mr. Foster, "but I have an overwhelming desire to know why--or, rather, to know in what respect, I am ministerial. Won't you enlighten me, Miss Ester?"

"Why," said Ester, growing still more confused, "I thought--I said--I--No, I mean I heard your talk with that queer old woman, some of it; and some things that you said made me think you must be a minister."

"What things, Miss Ester?"

"Everything," said Ester desperately. "You talked, you know, about--about religion nearly all the time."

A look of absolute pain rested for a moment on Mr. Foster's face, as he said: "Is it possible that your experience with Christian men has been so unfortunate that you believe none but ministers ever converse on that subject?"

"I never hear any," Ester answered positively.

"But your example as a Christian lady, I trust, is such that it puts to shame your experience among gentlemen?"

"Oh but," said Ester, still in great confusion, "I didn't mean to confine my statement to gentlemen. I never hear anything of the sort from ladies."

"Not from that dear old friend of ours on the cars?"

"Oh yes; she was different from other people too. I thought she had a very queer way of speaking; but then she was old and ignorant. I don't suppose she knew how to talk about any thing else, and she is my one exception."

Mr. Foster glanced in the direction of the golden brown head that was still in eager debate at the other end of the room, before he asked his next question. "How is it with your cousin?"

"Oh she!" said Ester, brought suddenly and painfully back to all her troublesome thoughts--and then, after a moment's hesitation, taking a quick resolution to probe this matter to its foundation, if it had one. "Mr. Foster, don't you think she is _very_ peculiar?"

At which question Mr. Foster laughed, then answered good humoredly: "Do you think me a competent witness in that matter?"

"Yes," Ester answered gravely, too thoroughly in earnest to be amused now; "she is entirely different from any person that I ever saw in my life. She don't seem to think about any thing else--at least she thinks more about this matter than any other."

"And that is being peculiar?"

"Why I think so--unnatural, I mean--unlike other people."

"Well, let us see. Do you call it being peculiarly good or peculiarly bad?"

"Why," said Ester in great perplexity, "it isn't _bad_ of course.

But she--no, she is very good, the best person I ever knew; but it is being like n.o.body else, and n.o.body _can_ be like her. Don't you think so?"

"I certainly do," he answered with the utmost gravity, and then he laughed again; but presently noting her perplexed look, he grew sober, and spoke with quiet gravity. "I think I understand you, Miss Ester.

If you mean, Do I not think Abbie has attained to a rare growth in spirituality for one of her age, I most certainly do; but if you mean, Do I not think it almost impossible for people in general to reach as high a foothold on the rock as she has gained, I certainly do not.

I believe it is within the power, and not only that, but it is the blessed privilege, and not only that, but it is the sacred duty of every follower of the cross to cling as close and climb as high as she has."

"_I_ don't think so," Ester said, with a decided shake of the head.

"It is much easier for some people to be good Christians than it is for others."

"Granted--that is, there is a difference of temperament certainly. But do you rank Abbie among those for whom it was naturally easy?"

"I think so."

This time Mr. Foster's head was very gravely shaken. "If you had known her when I did you would not think so. It was very hard for her to yield. Her natural temperament, her former life, her circle of friends, her home influences were all against her, and yet Christ triumphed."

"Yes, but having once decided the matter, it is smooth sailing with her now."

"Do you think so? Has Abbie no trials to meet, no battles with Satan to fight, so far as you can discover?"

"Only trifles," said Ester, thinking of Aunt Helen and Ralph, but deciding that Abbie had luxuries enough to offset both these anxieties.

"I believe you will find that it needs precisely the same help to meet trifles that it does to conquer mountains of difficulty. The difference is in degree not in kind. But I happen to know that some of Abbie's 'trifles' have been very heavy and hard to bear. However, the matter rests just here, Miss Ester. I believe we are all too willing to be conquered, too willing to be martyrs, not willing to reach after and obtain the settled and ever-growing joys of the Christian."

Ester was thoroughly ill at ease; all this condemned her--and at last, resolved to escape from this net work of her awakening conscience, she pushed boldly on. "People have different views on this subject as well as on all others. Now Abbie and I do not agree in our opinions. There are things which she thinks right that seem to me quite out of place and improper."

"Yes," he said inquiringly, and with the most quiet and courteous air; "would you object to mentioning some of those things?"

"Well, as an instance, it seemed to me very queer indeed to hear her and other young ladies speaking in your teachers' prayer-meeting. I never heard of such a thing, at least not among cultivated people."

"And you thought it improper?"

"Almost--yes, quite--perhaps. At least _I_ should never do it."

"Were you at Mrs. Burton's on the evening in which our society met?"

This, to Ester's surprise, was her companion's next very-wide-of-the-mark question. She opened her eyes inquiringly; then concluding that he was absent-minded, or else had no reply to make, and was weary of the subject, answered simply and briefly in the affirmative.

"I was detained that night. Were there many out?"

"Quite a full society Abbie said. The rooms were almost crowded."

"Pleasant?"

"Oh very. I hardly wished to go as they were strangers to me; but I was very happily disappointed, and enjoyed the evening exceedingly."

"Were there reports?"

"Very full ones, and Mrs. Burton was particularly interesting. She had forgotten her notes, but gave her reports from memory very beautifully."

"Ah, I am sorry for that. It must have destroyed the pleasure of the evening for you."

"I don't understand, Mr. Foster."

"Why you remarked that you considered it improper for ladies to take part in such matters: and of course what is an impropriety you can not have enjoyed."

"Oh that is a very different matter. It was not a prayer-meeting."

"I beg pardon. I did not understand. It is only at prayer-meetings that it is improper for ladies to speak. May I ask why?"

Ester was growing vexed. "Mr. Foster," she said sharply, "you know that it is quite another thing. There are gentlemen enough present, or ought to be, to do the talking in a prayer-meeting."

"There is generally a large proportion of gentlemen at the society.

I presume there were those present capable of giving Mrs. Burton's report."

"Well _I_ consider a society a very different thing from a gathering in a church."