“And then what?” asked Mrs. Willis, with a searching glance at the fair face beside her.
“Ought she not to have told her husband before marriage? Was it not her duty to have thrown herself upon his clemency?”
“I think not,” replied Mrs. Willis dryly. “See here, my dear, I am a practical woman of the world, and I think your young woman builded wiser than she knew. I am of the opinion that most men are like the lower animals in many things—they don’t always know what is for their best good. If the husband had been left to himself, he probably would not have married the one woman in the world best fitted to be his wife. I think in her case she did her duty.”
“Ah, that word ‘duty.’ What is our duty?” queried the girl, with a sad droop to the sensitive mouth. “It is so hard to know our duty. We are told that all hidden things shall be revealed. Must repented and atoned-for sin rise at last to be our curse?”
“Here is a point, dear girl. God does not look upon the constitution of sin as we do. His judgment is not ours; ours is finite, his infinite. Your duty is not to be morbid, thinking these thoughts that have puzzled older heads than yours. Your duty is, also, to be happy and bright for the good of those about you. Just blossom like the flowers, have faith and trust.” At this point the entrance of the men made an interruption, and Mrs. Willis disappeared in a crowd of other matrons. Sappho was impressed in spite of herself, by the woman’s words. She sat buried in deep thought.
There was evidently more in this woman than appeared upon the surface. With all the centuries of civilization and culture that have come to this grand old world, no man has yet been found able to trace the windings of God’s inscrutable ways. There are men and women whose seeming uselessness fit perfectly into the warp and woof of Destiny’s web. All things work together for good.
Supper being over, the elderly people began to leave. It was understood that after nine o’clock the night belonged to the young people. A committee had been formed from among them to plan for their enjoyment, and they consulted with Ma Smith, in the kitchen, as to the best plan of procedure.
“The case is this,” said the chairman, who was also the church chorister: “Ma Smith has bought four gallons of ice cream, to be sold for the benefit of this fair. It’s got to go, and it rests with us to devise ways and means of getting rid of it.”
“Get up a dance,” suggested Sam Washington, a young fellow who was the life of all social functions.
“Dance!” exclaimed Ma Smith, “not in this house.”
The choirmaster surreptitiously kicked Sam on the shins, as he said soothingly: “Under the circumstances I see no other way, as we’ve got to sell the cream, and there’s no harm in dancing, anyway.”
“You ain’t going to object to our dancing, are you, Ma? It’s all old fogyism about dancing being a sin,” chimed in Sam.
“Oh, but my son, I’ve been a church member over thirty years, a consistent Christian, and I never was up before the board for behavior unbecoming a professor. Think of the disgrace on me if the church took it up,” she expostulated tearfully.
“Look here, Ma, the deacons and ministers are all fooling you. It’s the style for church members to go to the theatre and the circus, to balls and everything you can mention. Why, I’ve seen our own pastor up to see The Black Crook, and laughing like all possessed at the sights. Fact!”
“Why, Samuel!” said Ma Smith, “how can you stand there and tell me such awful stories?”
“Not a bit of a story,” declared the brazen-faced Sam, “it’s as true as gospel. I’ll find out what seat the minister gets next June when the circus comes into town, and I’ll get a seat for you right behind him. If you’ve never been to the circus, Ma, and to see the seven-headed lady and the dancing mokes, you ought to go as soon as possible. Think of the fun you’re missing.”
“Oh!” groaned the good woman in holy horror, “how you do go on.”
“But that ain’t nothing to the ice cream,” continued Sam, “and them girls in there have got to be warmed up, or the cream will be left, and there won’t be a thing doing when the committee calls for the money.”
“That’s so,” replied Ma Smith, beginning to weaken in her opposition.
“Well, mother,” said Will, who had been an amused listener to the dialogue, “we’ll have the dance, and it shall be my dance for my company. No one shall trouble you; you will have nothing to do with it.”
“Well, if you say so, Willie, it’s all right,” replied his mother with a fond smile; “you are master in this house.”
In the meantime the furniture in the parlors had been moved out by other members of the committee, and in one corner a set of whist-players were enjoying themselves at ten cents a head for a thirty-minute game, which ended at the stroke of a small silver bell, their places being taken by others.
Already it was getting very warm in the crowded rooms. The doors leading into the entry had been thrown open, and couples were finding seats in convenient nooks waiting for dancing to begin. The girls were thinking of ice cream. Rev. Tommy James gravitated toward Mrs. Davis’s corner. She had not gone out with the other matrons.
“I enjoy a real good
