The Man Between | Page 4

want me to drive in the afternoon, and
again he may not; but Sunday is father's home day, and Ruth and I
make a point of obliging him in regard to it. That is one of our family
principles; and a girl ought to have a few principles of conduct
involving self-denial. Aunt Ruth says, `Life cannot stand erect without
self-denial,' and aunt is usually right--but I do wonder what Dora wants!
I cannot imagine what extraordinary news has come. I must try and see
her to-morrow--it may be difficult--but I must make the effort"--and
with this satisfying resolution she easily fell asleep.
When she awoke the church bells were ringing and she knew that her
father and aunt would have breakfasted. The feet did not trouble her. It
was an accidental sleep-over; she had not planned it, and circumstances
would take care of themselves. In any case, she had no fear of rebuke.
No one was ever cross with Ethel. It was a matter of pretty general
belief that whatever Ethel did was just right. So she dressed herself
becomingly in a cloth suit, and, with her plumed hat on her head, went
down to see what the day had to offer her.
"The first thing is coffee, and then, all being agreeable, Dora. I shall not
look further ahead," she thought.
As she entered the room she called "Good morning!" and her voice was
like the voice of the birds when they call "Spring!"; and her face was
radiant with smiles, and the touch of her lips and the clasp of her hand
warm with love and life; and her father and aunt forgot that she was

late, and that her breakfast was yet to order.
She took up the reproach herself. "I am so sorry, Aunt Ruth. I only
want a cup of coffee and a roll."
"My dear, you cannot go without a proper breakfast. Never mind the
hour. What would you like best?"
"You are so good, Ruth. I should like a nice breakfast--a breast of
chicken and mushrooms, and some hot muffins and marmalade would
do. How comfortable you look here! Father, you are buried in
newspapers. Is anyone going to church?"
Ruth ordered the desired breakfast and Mr. Rawdon took out his
watch--"I am afraid you have delayed us too long this morning, Ethel."
"Am I to be the scapegoat? Now, I do not believe anyone wanted to go
to church. Ruth had her book, you, the newspapers. It is warm and
pleasant here, it is cold and windy outside. I know what confession
would be made, if honesty were the fashion."
"Well, my little girl, honesty is the fashion in this house. I believe in
going to church. Religion is the Mother of Duty, and we should all
make a sad mess of life without duty. Is not that so, Ruth?"
"Truth itself, Edward; but religion is not going to church and listening
to sermons. Those who built the old cathedrals of Europe had no idea
that sitting in comfortable pews and listening to some man talking was
worshiping God. Those great naves were intended for men and women
to stand or kneel in before God. And there were no high or low
standing or kneeling places; all were on a level before Him. It is our
modern Protestantism which has brought in lazy lolling in cushioned
pews; and the gallery, which makes a church as like a playhouse as
possible!"
"What are you aiming at, Ruth?"
"I only meant to say, I would like going to church much better if we

went solely to praise God, and entreat His mercy. I do not care to hear
sermons."
"My dear Ruth, sermons are a large fact in our social economy. When a
million or two are preached every year, they have a strong claim on our
attention. To use a trade phrase, sermons are firm, and I believe a
moderate tax on them would yield an astonishing income."
"See how you talk of them, Edward; as if they were a commercial
commodity. If you respected them----"
"I do. I grant them a steady pneumatic pressure in the region of morals,
and even faith. Picture to yourself, Ruth, New York without sermons.
The dear old city would be like a ship without ballast, heeling over with
every wind, and letting in the waters of immorality and scepticism.
Remove this pulpit balance just for one week from New York City, and
where should we be?"
"Well then," said Ethel, "the clergy ought to give New York a first-rate
article in sermons, either of home or foreign manufacture. New York
expects the very best of everything; and when she gets it, she opens her
heart and her pocketbook enjoys it, and pays for it."
"That is the