CHAPTER XI.

THE NEXT THING.

WHAT she did next that night was to sit with her elbows in her lap, and

her chin resting on her hands, and stare into vacancy for half an hour.

She was very much bewildered. Col. Baker had awakened a train of thought

that would never slumber again. He need not hope for such a thing. Her

brother Charlie saw deeper into her nature than she did herself. She was

tenacious of an idea; she had grasped at this one, which, of itself,

would perhaps never have occurred to her.

Hitherto she had played at cards as she had played on the piano or

worked at her worsted cats and dogs, or frittered away an evening in

the smallest of small talk, or done a hundred other things, without

thought of results, without so much as realizing that there were such

things as results connected with such trifling commonplaces.

At least, so far as the matter of cards was concerned, she would never

do so again. Her quiet had been disturbed. The process of reasoning by

which she found herself disturbed was very simple. She had discovered,

as if by accident, that her pastor; as she loved to call Dr. Dennis,

lingering on the word, now that it had such a new meaning for her,

disapproved of card-playing, not only for himself, but for her; at least

that Col. Baker so supposed.

Now there must be some foundation for this belief of his. Either there

was something in the nature of the game which Col. Baker recognized, and

which she did not, that made him understand, as by instinct, that it

would be disapproved by Dr. Dennis, or else he had heard him so express

himself, or else he was totally mistaken, and was misrepresenting that

gentleman's character.

She thought all this over as she sat staring into space, and she went

one step further--she meant to discover which of these three statements

was correct. If Dr. Dennis thought it wrong to play cards, then he must

have reasons for so thinking. She accepted that at once as a necessity

to the man. They must also have been carefully weighed reasons, else he

would not have given them a place in his creed. This also was a

necessity to a nature like his.

Clearly there was something here for her to study; but how to set about

it? Over this she puzzled a good deal; she did not like to go directly

to Dr. Dennis and ask for herself; she did not know how to set to work

to discover for herself the truth; she could pray for light, that to be

sure; but having brought her common sense with her into religious

matters, she no more expected light to blaze upon her at the moment of

praying for it, than she expected the sun to burst into the room despite

the closing of blinds and dropping of curtain, merely because she prayed

that it might shine.

Clearly if she wanted the sun, it was her part to open blinds and draw

back curtains; clearly if she wanted mental light, it was her part to

use the means that God had placed at her disposal. Thus much she

realized. But not being a self-reliant girl, it resulted in her saying

to Eurie Mitchell when she slipped in the next evening to spend an hour:

"I wish we girls could get together somewhere this evening; I have

something to talk over that puzzles me a great deal."

You are to understand that the expression, "we girls," meant the four

who had lived Chautauqua together; from henceforth and forever "we

girls" who went through the varied experiences of life together that

were crowded into those two weeks, would be separated from all other

girls, and their intercourse would necessarily be different from any

other friendships, colored always with that which they had lived

together under the trees.

"Well," said Eurie, quick, as usual, to carry out what another only

suggested, "I'm sure that is easily managed. We can call for Ruth, and

go around to Marion's den; she is always in, and she never has any

company."

"But Ruth nearly always has," objected Flossy, who had an instant

vision of herself among the fashionable callers in the Erskine parlor,

unable to get away without absolute rudeness.

"I'll risk Ruth if she happens to want to come with us," Eurie said,

nodding her head sagely. "She will dispose of her callers in some way;

strangle them, or what is easier and safer, simply ignore their

existence and beg to be excused. Ruth is equal to any amount of

well-bred rudeness; all that is necessary is the desire to perform a

certain action, and she will do it."

This prophecy of Eurie's proved to be the case. Nellis Mitchell was

called into service to see the girls safely over to the Erskine mansion,

where they found two gentlemen calling on Ruth and her father. No sooner

did she hear of their desire to be together, than, feeling instant

sympathy with it, she said, "I'll go in five minutes." Then they heard

her quiet voice in the parlor:

"Father, will you and our friends excuse me for the remainder of the

evening, and will you enjoy my part of the call and yours too? I have

just had a summons elsewhere that demands attention."

"Isn't that perfect in its propriety, besides bringing things to the

exact point where she wants them to be?" whispered Eurie to Flossy as

they waited in the hall. "Oh, it takes Ruth to manage."

"I wonder," said Flossy, with her far-away look, and half-distressed,

wholly-perplexed curve of the lip--"I wonder if it is strictly _true_;

that is what troubles me a good deal."

Oh, Dr. Hurlbut your address to the children that summer day under the

trees was the germ of this shoot of sensitiveness for the strict truth,

that shall bloom into conscientious fruit.

It was by this process that they were all together in Marion's den, as

Eurie called her stuffed and uninviting little room. Never was mortal

more glad to be interrupted than she, as she unceremoniously tossed

aside school-books and papers, and made room for them around the table.

"You are a blessed trio," she said, exultantly. "What good angel put it

into your hearts to come to me just now and here? I am in the dismals;

have been down all day in the depths of swamp-land, feeling as if I

hadn't a friend on earth, and didn't want one; and here you are, you

blessed three."

"But we didn't come for fun or to comfort you, or anything of that

sort," explained Flossy, earnestly, true to the purpose that had started

her. "We came to talk something over."

"I don't doubt it. Talk it over then by all means. I'll talk at it with

all my heart. We generally do talk something over, I have observed, when

we get together; at least we do of late years. Which one wants to talk?"

Thus introduced, Flossy explained the nature of her perplexities; her

occupation the evening before; the interruption from Dr. Dennis; the

sweeping action of Col. Baker, and the consequent talk.

"Now do you suppose that is true?" she said, suddenly breaking off at

the point where Col. Baker had assured her that all clergymen looked

with utter disfavor on cards.

Marion glanced from one to another of the faces before her with an

amused air; none of them spoke.

"It is rather queer," she said, at last, "that I have to be authority,

or that I seem to be the only one posted, when I have but just emerged

from a state of unbelief in the whole subject. But I tell you truly, my

blessed little innocent, Col. Baker is well posted; not only the clergy,

but he will find a large class of the most enlightened Christians, look

with disapproval on the whole thing in all its variations."

"Why do they?" This from Flossy, with a perplexed and troubled tone.

"Well," said Marion, "now that question is more easily asked than

answered. It requires an argument."

"An argument is just what I want; I like to have things explained.

Before that, though, one thing that puzzles me is how should Col. Baker

be so familiar with the views of clergymen?"

"That is a curious fact, my mousie; you will find it, I fancy, in all

sorts of strange places. People who are not Christians seem to have an

intuitive perception of the fitness of things. It is like dancing and

theatre-going, and a dozen other questions. It is very unusual to meet

people who do not sneer at Christians for upholding such amusements;

they seem to realize an incongruity between them and the Christian

profession. It was just as plain to me, I know, and I have sneered many

a time over card-playing Christians, and here you are, dear little

Flossy, among them, just for the purpose of teaching me not to judge."

Ruth, for the first time, took up the subject:

"If your statement is true, Marion, how is it that so many professed

Christians indulge in these very things?"

"Precisely the question that I just asked myself while I was talking. By

what means they become destitute of that keen insight into consistencies

and inconsistencies, the moment they enter the lists as Christian

people, is more than I can understand, unless it is because they decide

to succumb to the necessity of doing as other people do, and let any

special thinking alone as inconvenient and unprofitable. I don't know

how it is; only you watch this question and think about it, and you will

discover that just so surely as you come in contact with any who are

active and alert in Christian work, whose religion you respect as

amounting to something, you are almost sure to see them avoiding all

these amusements. Who ever heard of a minister being asked to spend an

evening in social card-playing! I presume that even Col. Baker himself

knows that that would be improper, and he would be the first to sneer."

"Of course," Ruth said, "ministers were expected to be examples for

other people to follow."

"Well, then," Flossy said, her perplexity in no way lessened, "ought we

not to follow?"

Whereupon Marion clapped her hands.

"Little Flossy among the logicians!" she said. "That is the point, Ruth

Erskine. If the example is for us to follow, why don't we follow? Now,

what do you honestly think about this question yourself?"

"Why," said Ruth, hesitatingly, "I have always played cards, in select

circles, being careful, of course, with whom I played; just as I am

careful with whom I associate, and, contrary to your supposition, I have

always supposed those people who frowned on such amusements to be a set

of narrow-minded fanatics. And I didn't know that Christian people did

frown on such amusements; though, to be sure, now that I think of it,

there are certain ones who never come to card-parties nor

dancing-parties. I guess the difficulty is that I have never thought

anything about it."

Marion was looking sober.

"The fact is," she said, gravely, "that with all my loneliness and

poverty and general forlornness, I have had a different bringing up from

any of you. My father did not believe in any of these things."

"And he was a Christian man," Flossy said, quickly. "Then he must have

had a reason for his belief. That is what I want to get at. What was

it?"

"He found it in an old book," said Marion, looking at her, brightly,

through shining eyes. "He found most of his knowledge and his hope and

joy in that same book. The Bible was almost the only book he had, and he

made much of that."

"And yet you hated the Bible!" Eurie said this almost involuntarily,

with a surprised tone.

"I hated the way in which people lived it, so different from my father's

way. I don't think I ever really discarded the book itself. But I was a

fool; I don't mind owning that."

Flossy brought them back to the subject.

"But about this question," she said. "The Bible was just where I went

for help, but I didn't find it; I looked in the Concordance for cards

and for amusements, and for every word which I could think of, that

would cover it, but I couldn't find anything."

Marion laughed again. This little morsel's ignorance of the Bible was to

this girl, who had been an avowed infidel for more than a dozen years,

something very strange.

"The Bible is a big book, darling," she said, still laughing. "But,

after all, I fancy you will find something about the principle that

governs cards, even if you cannot find the word."

Meantime Ruth had been for some minutes regarding Eurie's grave face and

attentive eyes, with no small astonishment in her gaze. At this point

she interrupted:

"Eurie Mitchell, what can be the matter with you? were you ever known to

be so quiet? I haven't heard you speak on this theme, or any other,

since you came into the room; yet you look as though you had some

ideas, if you chose to advance them. Where do you stand on this card

question?"

"We never play cards at home," Eurie said, quickly, "and we never go

where we know they are to be played."

Flossy turned upon her the most surprised eyes. Dr. Mitchell's family

was the most decidedly unconventional and free and easy of any

represented there. Flossy had supposed that they, of all others, would

make cards a daily pastime.

"Why not?" she asked, briefly and earnestly, as one eager to learn.

"It is on Nell's account," Eurie said, still speaking very gravely.

"Nell has but one fault, and that is card-playing; he is just

passionately fond of it; he is tempted everywhere. Father says

Grandfather Mitchell was just so, and Nell inherits the taste. It is a

great temptation to him, and we do not like to foster it at home."

"But home card-playing is so different; that isn't gambling." This from

Flossy, questioningly.

"Nell learned to play at home," Eurie said, quickly. "That is, he

learned at Grandfather Mitchell's when he was a little boy. We have no

means of knowing whether he would have been led into gambling but for

that early education. I know that Robbie shall never learn if we can

help it; we never mean to allow him to go where any sort of cards are

played, so long as we have him under control."

All this was utterly new to Flossy.

"Then, if your little Robbie should come, with other children, to see

me, and I should teach them a game of cards to amuse them, I might be

doing you a positive injury," she said, thoughtfully.

"I certainly should so consider it," Eurie said, with quickness and with

feeling. "Girls, I speak vehemently on this subject always; having one

serious lesson at home makes people think."

"It is a question whether we have any right to indulge in an amusement

that has the power to lead people astray," Ruth said, grave and

thoughtful, "especially when it is impossible to tell what boy may he

growing up under that influence to whom it will become a snare."

Marion added:

"Flossy, do you begin to see?"

"I see in every direction," Flossy said. "There is no telling when we

may be doing harm. But, now, let me be personal; I play with father a

great deal; he is an old man, and he has no special temptation,

certainly. I have heard him say he never played for anything of more

value than a pin in his life. What harm can there possibly be in my

spending an evening with him in such an amusement, if it rests and

entertains him?"

"Imagine some of your Sunday-school boys accepting your invitation to

call on you, and finding you playing a social game with your father;

then imagine them quoting you in support of their game at the billiard

saloon that same evening a little later," Marion said, quickly. "You

see, my little Flossy, we don't live in nutshells or sealed cans; we are

at all times liable to be broken in upon by people whom we may influence

and whom we may harm. I confess I don't want to do anything at home that

will have to be pushed out of sight in haste and confusion because some

one happens to come in. I want to be honest, even in my play."

Over this Flossy looked absolutely aghast. Those boys of hers, they

were getting a strong hold upon her already; she longed to lead them.

Was it possible that by her very amusements she might lead them astray!

Another point was, that Nellis Mitchell could never be invited to join

them in a game. She had invited him often, and she winced at the

thought. Did his sister think she had helped him into temptation?

Following these trains of thought, she was led into another, over which

she thought aloud.

"And suppose any of them should ask me if I ever played cards! I should

have to say yes."

"Precisely," said Marion. "And don't you go to thinking that you can

ever hide behind that foolish little explanation, 'I play simply for

amusement; I think it is wrong to play for money.' It won't do: it takes

logical brains to see the difference, and some even of those _won't_ see

it; but they can readily see that, having plenty of money, of course you

have no temptation to play cards for it, and they see that with them it

is different."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

The Chautauqua Girls At Home · 第 11 / 28 章