borg decided that Thea ought to show
more interest in church work. He put it to her frankly, one night at
supper, before the whole family. "How can I insist on the other girls in
the congregation being active in the work, when one of my own daughters
manifests so little interest?"

"But I sing every Sunday morning, and I have to give up one night a week
to choir practice," Thea declared rebelliously, pushing back her plate
with an angry determination to eat nothing more.

"One night a week is not enough for the pastor's daughter," her father
replied. "You won't do anything in the sewing society, and you won't
take part in the Christian Endeavor or the Band of Hope. Very well, you
must make it up in other ways. I want some one to play the organ and
lead the singing at prayer-meeting this winter. Deacon Potter told me
some time ago that he thought there would be more interest in our
prayer-meetings if we had the organ. Miss Meyers don't feel that she can
play on Wednesday nights. And there ought to be somebody to start the
hymns. Mrs. Potter is getting old, and she always starts them too high.
It won't take much of your time, and it will keep people from talking."

This argument conquered Thea, though she left the table sullenly. The
fear of the tongue, that terror of little towns, is usually felt more
keenly by the minister's family than by other households. Whenever the
Kronborgs wanted to do anything, even to buy a new carpet, they had to
take counsel together as to whether people would talk. Mrs. Kronborg had
her own conviction that people talked when they felt like it, and said
what they chose, no matter how the minister's family conducted
themselves. But she did not impart these dangerous ideas to her
children. Thea was still under the belief that public opinion could be
placated; that if you clucked often enough, the hens would mistake you
for one of themselves.

Mrs. Kronborg did not have any particular zest for prayer-meetings, and
she stayed at home whenever she had a valid excuse. Thor was too old to
furnish such an excuse now, so every Wednesday night, unless one of the
children was sick, she trudged off with Thea, behind Mr. Kronborg. At
first Thea was terribly bored. But she got used to prayer-meeting, got
even to feel a mournful interest in it.

The exercises were always pretty much the same. After the first hymn her
father read a passage from the Bible, usually a Psalm. Then there was
another hymn, an