“Pardon me, Miss Ludolph,” continued Dennis; “but I appeal to your sense of justice. Could I be a true man and be silent, believing what I do? Could I hear the name of my Best Friend thus spoken of, and say not one word in His behalf?”
“But I spoke most highly of the Christ of the Bible.”
“You spoke of Him as a great, good, but mistaken man, an enthusiast. To me He is the mighty God, my Divine Saviour, to whom I owe infinitely more than life. You know that I mean no disrespect to you,” he added, with gentle but manly courtesy. “I regret more deeply than words can express that you honestly think as you do. But if I as honestly believe the Bible, am I not acting as you said a true follower ought? For I assure you it is a heavier cross than you can ever know to speak thus unbidden where I am regarded only as a serving-man. But should I not be false and cowardly if I held my peace? And if you afterward should know that I claimed the name of Christian, would you not despise me as you remembered this scene?”
Christine bit her lip and hesitated, but her sense of justice prevailed, and she said, “I not only pardon you, but commend your course in view of your evident sincerity.”
Dennis replied by a low bow.
At this moment there was a loud ring at the door.
“There come the gentlemen,” exclaimed Miss Brown. “I am so glad! Oh, dear! what a long, uncomfortable preachment we have had! Now for some fun!”
The colorless young ladies had stared first at Christine, and then at the cross, in blank amazement.
At the word “gentlemen” they were all on the alert and ready for real life; but Miss Winthrop left the room for a short time.
A handsome, lively youth entered, scattering bows and compliments on every side with the offhand ease of an accomplished society man. He paid no heed to Dennis, evidently regarding him as the showman.
“Well, ladies, you have done your part,” he said; “your arrangements seem complete.”
“Yes, Mr. Mellen; but where is our tenor?” asked Christine. “We have only three-quarters of an hour for music rehearsal, before we must retire to dress for our parts.”
“Bad news for you, Miss Ludolph,” said Mr. Mellen, coming to her side; “Archer is sick and can’t come.”
“Can’t come?” they all exclaimed in dismayed chorus.
“What is the matter?” asked Miss Winthrop, anxiously, coming in at that moment.
“Matter enough,” said Miss Brown, poutingly; “that horrid Archer has gone and got sick, I do believe he did it on purpose. He did not know his parts near as well as he ought, and he has taken this way to get out of it.”
“But he promised me he would study them all the morning,” said Christine. “Oh, I am so sorry! What shall we do? Our entertainment seems fated to be a failure;” and she spoke in a tone of deep disappointment.
“I assure you I feel the deepest sympathy for you,” said Mr. Mellen, looking tenderly at Christine, “but I did my best. I tried to drag Archer here out of his sickbed, and then I ran around among some other good singers that I know, but none would venture. They said the music was difficult, and would require much practice, and that now is impossible.”
“Oh, isn’t it too bad?” mourned Miss Winthrop. “The programme is all printed, and the people will be so disappointed! We can’t have that splendid duet that you and Mr. Archer were to sing, Christine. I have a score of friends who were coming to hear that alone.”
“Oh, as for that matter, half our music is spoiled,” said Christine, dejectedly. “Well, this is the last time I attempt anything of the kind. How in the world we are going to get out of this scrape I do not know. The tickets are so high, and so much has been said, that the people are expecting a great deal, and there is every prospect of a most lame and impotent conclusion.”
A general gloom settled upon the faces of all. At this moment Dennis stepped forward hesitatingly and said to Christine, “Have you the music that Mr. Archer was to sing?”
“Certainly! do you suppose it was of the kind that he could extemporize?” said Miss Brown, pertly.
“Will you let me see it? If you are willing, perhaps I can assist you in this matter.”
All turned toward him with a look of great surprise.
“What do you think of that from the man who sweeps Mr. Ludolph’s store?” asked Miss Brown, in a loud whisper.
“I think the fellow is as presuming as he is ignorant,” said Mr. Mellen, so plainly that all heard him.
“It is not presuming, sir, to offer a kindness where it is needed,” said Dennis, with dignity, “and my ignorance is not yet proved. The presumption is all on your part.”
Mr. Mellen flushed and was about to answer angrily when Miss Winthrop said hastily, but in a kindly tone, “But really, Mr. Fleet, much of our music is new and very difficult.”
“But it is written, is it not?” asked Dennis, with a smile.
Christine looked at him in silent wonder. What would he not do next? But she was sorry that he had spoken, for she foresaw only mortification for him.
“Oh, give him the music by all means,” said Miss Brown, expecting to enjoy his blundering attempts to sing what was far beyond him. “There, I will play the accompaniment. It’s not the tune of Old Hundred that you are to sing now, young man, remember.”
Dennis glanced over the music, and she began to play a loud, difficult piece.
He turned to Miss Ludolph, and said: “I fear you have
