Very little whispering was done after that for some time. Although
Marion made light of her youthful dreams, there was a strong feeling of
excitement and interest clustering around this first sight of the woman
whose name she had known so long; and something in the fair, sweet face
and cultured voice fascinated and held her, much as she had fancied in
her earlier days would be the case. She frowned when she heard the
request to reporters to "lay aside their pencils." She had meant to earn
laurels by reporting this delicious bit of imagery, set in between the
graver sermons and lectures; but, after all, it was a rest to give
herself up to the uninterrupted enjoyment of taking in every word and
tone--taking it in for her own private benefit. "The Parish of Fair
Haven." How heartily she enjoyed it. The refined and delicate, and yet
keen and intense satire underlying the whole quaint original story, was
of just the nature to hold and captivate her. She was just in the mood
to enjoy it, too. For was it not aimed at that class of people who
awakened her own keenest sense of satire--the so-called "Christian
world"? She did not belong to it, you know; in her own estimation was
entirely without the pale of its sarcasm; stranded on a high and
majestic rock of unbelief in everything, and in a condition to be amused
at the follies of people who played at belief; and treated what they
_played_ was solemn realities as if they were cradle stories or nicely
woven fiction. There was no listener in all that crowd who so enjoyed
the keen play of wit and the sharp home thrusts as did Marion Wilbur.
Ruth was a little undecided what to think; she did not belong to the
class who were hit, to be sure, but her father always gave largely to
missions whenever the solicitor called on him: she had heard his name
mentioned with respect as one of the most benevolent men of the day; she
did not quite like the very low and matter-of-course place which Mrs.
Miller's view of the mission question gave him. According to the people
of Fair Haven, to give one's thousands to the cause was the most
commonplace thing in the world--not to do so was to be an inhuman
wretch. Ruth didn't quite like it--in truth she was just enough within
the circle of modern Christianity to feel herself slightly grazed by the
satire.

"It is absurd," she said to Marion as they went up the hill. "What is
the sense in a woman talking in that way? As if people, were they ever
so good