ainly consider it eminently proper,
in fact a duty."

Now, it was very provoking to have so religious a sentence as this
received in the manner that it was. Marion tilted her stool back against
the bed, and gave herself up to the luxury of a ringing laugh.

"Really," Ruth said, "you have returned from church in a very hilarious
mood; something very funny must have happened; it can not be that
anything in my sentence had to do with your amusement."

"Yes, but it has," squealed Marion, holding her sides and laughing
still. "Oh, Ruthie, Ruthie, you will be the death of me! And so you
think that this is religion! You honestly suppose that standing up in
church and having your name read off constitutes Christianity! Don't do
it, Ruthie; you have never been a hypocrite, and I have always honored
you because you were not. If this is all the religion you can find, go
without it forever and ever, for I tell you there is not a single bit in
it."

Her laughter had utterly ceased, and her voice was solemn in its
intensity.

"I don't know what you mean in the least," Ruth said, testily. "You are
talking about something of which you know nothing."

"So are you. Oh, Ruthie, so are you! Yes, I know something about it; I
know that you haven't reached the A, B, C, of it. Why, Ruthie, do you
remember that story this afternoon? Do you remember that little boy in
the garret, how he turned his face to the wall and asked God to save
him? Have you done that? Do you honestly think that _you_, Ruth Erskine,
have anything to be saved from? Don't you know the little fellow said,
'_He answered_.' Has He answered you? Why, Ruth, do you never listen to
the church covenant? How does it read: 'That it is eminently fit and
proper for those who believe that God made them to join the church?'
Ruth Erskine, you can never take more solemn vows upon you than you will
have to take if you unite with the church, and I beg you not to do it. I
tell you it means more than that. I had a father who was a member of the
church and he prayed--oh, how he prayed! He was the best man who ever
lived on earth! Every one knew he was good; every one thought he was a
saint; and it seems to me as though I could never love any God who did
not give him a happier lot than he had as a reward for his holy life.
But do you think he thought himself good? I tell you he felt that no one
could be more weak and sinful and in need of saving than he was. Oh, I
know the people who mak