he future?"

Someway this brought the talk to a sudden lull. Ruth seemed to have no
more to say.

"There is another way of work that I have been intending to suggest to
some of you young ladies," Dr. Dennis said, after a thoughtful silence.
"It is something very much neglected in our church--that is the social
question. Do you know we have many members who complain that they are
never called on, never spoken with, never noticed in any way?"

"I don't know anything about the members," Ruth said. "I don't think I
have a personal acquaintance with twenty of them--a calling
acquaintance, I mean."

"That is the case with a great many, and it is a state of things that
should not exist. The family ought to know each other. I begin to see
your work clearer; it is the young ladies, to a large extent, who must
remedy this evil. Suppose you take up some of that work, not neglecting
the other, of course. 'These ought ye to have done, and not to have left
the other undone,' I am afraid will be said to a good many of us. But
this is certainly work needing to be done, and work for which you have
leisure."

He hoped to see her face brighten, but it did not. Instead she said:

"I hate calling."

"I dare say; calling that is aimless, and in a sense useless. It must be
hateful work. But if you start out with an object in view, a something
to accomplish that is worth your while, will it not make a great
difference?"

Ruth only sighed.

"I have so many calls to make with father," she said, wearily. "It is
the worst work I do. They are upon fashionable, frivolous people, who
cannot talk about _anything_. It is worse martyrdom now than it used to
be. I think I am peculiarly unfitted for such work, Dr. Dennis."

"But I want you to try a different style of calls. Go alone; not with
your father, or with anyone who will trammel your tongue; and go among a
class of people who do not expect you, and will be surprised and
pleased, and helped, perhaps. Come, let me give you a list of persons
whom I would like to have you call on at your earliest opportunity. This
is work that I am really longing to see done."

A prisoner about to receive sentence could hardly have looked more
gloomy than did Ruth. She was still for a few minutes, then she said:

"Dr. Dennis, do you really think it is a person's duty to do that sort
of work for which he or she feels least qualified, and which is the most
distasteful?"

"No," said Dr. Dennis, promptly.