appealingly.

Judith's face hardened until it was as if cut in stone.

"No, he shall not," she said stubbornly. "No one living in my household
shall ever go to church or Sunday school. I gave in to you when you
wanted to teach him to say his prayers, though I knew it was only
foolish superstition, but I sha'n't yield another inch. You know exactly
how I feel on this subject, Salome; I believe just as father did. You
know he hated churches and churchgoing. And was there ever a better,
kinder, more lovable man?"

"Mother believed in God; mother always went to church," pleaded Salome.

"Mother was weak and superstitious, just as you are," retorted Judith
inflexibly. "I tell you, Salome, I don't believe there is a God. But, if
there is, He is cruel and unjust, and I hate Him."

"Judith!" gasped Salome, aghast at the impiety. She half expected to see
her sister struck dead at her feet.

"Don't 'Judith' me!" said Judith passionately, in the strange anger that
any discussion of the subject always roused in her. "I mean every word I
say. Before you got lame I didn't feel much about it one way or another;
I'd just as soon have gone with mother as with father. But, when you
were struck down like that, I knew father was right."

For a moment Salome quailed. She felt that she could not, dare not,
stand out against Judith. For her own sake she could not have done so,
but the thought of Lionel Hezekiah nerved her to desperation. She struck
her thin, bleached little hands wildly together.

"Judith, I'm going to church to-morrow," she cried. "I tell you I am,
I won't set Lionel Hezekiah a bad example one day longer. I'll not take
him; I won't go against you in that, for it is your bounty feeds and
clothes him; but I'm going myself."

"If you do, Salome Marsh, I'll never forgive you," said Judith, her
harsh face dark with anger; and then, not trusting herself to discuss
the subject any longer, she went out.

Salome dissolved into her ready tears, and cried most of the night.
But her resolution did not fail. Go to church she would, for that dear
baby's sake.

Judith would not speak to her at breakfast, and this almost broke
Salome's heart; but she dared not yield. After breakfast, she limped
painfully into her room, and still more painfully dressed herself. When
she was ready, she took a little old worn Bible out of her box. It had
been her mother's, and Salome read a chapter in it every night, although
she never dared to l