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 truth, Ethel. I was thinking of your grandmother Rawdon.
You have your hat on--are you going to see her?"

"I am going to see Dora Denning. I had an urgent note from her last
night. She says she has 'extraordinary news' and begs me to 'come to
her immediately.' I cannot imagine what her news is. I saw her Friday
afternoon."

"She has a new poodle, or a new lover, or a new way of crimping her
hair," suggested Ruth Bayard scornfully. "She imposes on you, Ethel; why
do you submit to her selfishness?"

"I suppose because I have become used to it. Four years ago I began
to take her part, when the girls teased and tormented her in the
schoolroom, and I have big-sistered her ever since. I suppose we get to
love those who make us kind and give us trouble. Dora is not perfect,
but I like her better than any friend I have. And she must like me, for
she asks my advice about everything in her life."

"Does she take it?"

"Yes--generally. Sometimes I have to make her take it."

"She has a mother. Why does she not go to her?"

"Mrs. Denning knows nothing about certain subjects. I am Dora's social
godmother, and she must dress and behave as I tell her to do. Poor Mrs.
Denning! I am so sorry for her--another cup of coffee, Ruth--it is