know it perfectly
well."

Hannah came to her sister's rescue:

"Hester didn't mean that it was that kind of a lie, and it wasn't. But
it was a lie."

"Well, upon my word, I never heard such nonsense! Haven't you got sense
enough to discriminate between lies! Don't you know the difference
between a lie that helps and a lie that hurts?"

"ALL lies are sinful," said Hannah, setting her lips together like a
vise; "all lies are forbidden."

The Only Christian fidgeted impatiently in his chair. He went to attack
this proposition, but he did not quite know how or where to begin.
Finally he made a venture:

"Hester, wouldn't you tell a lie to shield a person from an undeserved
injury or shame?"

"No."

"Not even a friend?"

"No."

"Not even your dearest friend?"

"No. I would not."

The doctor struggled in silence awhile with this situation; then he
asked:

"Not even to save him from bitter pain and misery and grief?"

"No. Not even to save his life."

Another pause. Then:

"Nor his soul?"

There was a hush--a silence which endured a measurable interval--then
Hester answered, in a low voice, but with decision:

"Nor his soul?"

No one spoke for a while; then the doctor said:

"Is it with you the same, Hannah?"

"Yes," she answered.

"I ask you both--why?"

"Because to tell such a lie, or any lie, is a sin, and could cost us
the loss of our own souls--WOULD, indeed, if we died without time to
repent."

"Strange... strange... it is past belief." Then he asked, roughly: "Is
such a soul as that WORTH saving?" He rose up, mumbling and grumbling,
and started for the door, stumping vigorously along. At the threshold he
turned and rasped out an admonition: "Reform! Drop this mean and sordid
and selfish devotion to the saving of your shabby little souls, and hunt
up something to do that's got some dignity to it! RISK your souls!
risk them in good causes; then if you lose them, why should you care?
Reform!"

The good old gentlewomen sat paralyzed, pulverized, outraged, insulted,
and brooded in bitterness and indignation over these blasphemies. They
were hurt to the heart, poor old ladies, and said they could never
forgive these injuries.

"Reform!"

They kept repeating that word resentfully. "Reform--and learn to tell
lies!"

Time slipped along, and in due course a change came over their spirits.
They had completed the human being's first duty--which is to think about
himself until he has exha