Barriers Burned Away Part 20

"How romantic!" gushed the colorless young ladies.

"Nonsense!" said Miss Brown; "I hate to see any one in his position putting on such airs."

As soon as she had seen Dennis fairly at work just like her mother's servants, or her father's men, she felt that he ought to be treated as such--riches being Miss Brown's patent of n.o.bility; and she resolved if possible to lower his ridiculous pride, as she regarded it. Miss Brown was a very handsome, stylish girl of a certain type, but she no more understood Dennis's feelings than she did Sanscrit.

Christine said nothing, but admitted to herself, with a secret wonder, that Dennis awakened in her a respect, a sort of fear, that no other man had inspired, save her father. There was something in his manner, though altogether respectful, that made her feel that he was not to be trifled with. This impression was decidedly heightened when, a few moments later, Miss Brown, pursuant of her resolution to lower Dennis's pride, ordered him in an offensive manner to do something for her that had no connection with the entertainment. At first he acted as if he had not heard her, but his rising color showed that he had. In spite of warning glances from Christine and Miss Winthrop, she repeated her request in a loud, imperious tone.

Dennis drew himself up to his full height, and, turning his dark eyes full upon her, said, firmly, "I am ever ready to _offer_ any service that a gentleman can to a lady, but surely I am not your footman."

"Your pride is ridiculous, sir. You are here to help, and will be paid for it. This is my house, and I expect persons of your position, while in it, to do as they are bidden."

"Since such are the rules and principles of your house, permit me at once to leave you in full possession;" and he was about to retire with a manner as cold as Mr. Ludolph himself could have a.s.sumed, and as haughty, when a light hand fell upon his arm. Looking down he met the deep blue eyes of Christine Ludolph lifted pleadingly to his.

"Mr. Fleet, you need not do what is asked. It is not right to require it. In fact we all owe you an apology." Then, in a low, quick tone, she added, "Will you not stay as a favor to me?"

She felt his arm tremble under her hand, there was a moment's hesitation, then he replied, in the same manner, "Miss Ludolph, _you_ can command me on _this_ occasion" (there was no promise for the future); and then he turned to his work as if resolved to see and know nothing else till the ordeal ended.

In spite of herself Christine blushed, but taking Miss Brown by the arm she led her aside and gave her a vigorous lecture.

"Are you sane?" she said. "Do you not remember that nearly a thousand dollars' worth of tickets are sold, and that the people will be here by half-past eight, and at nine we must appear? Even after what he has done, if you should drive him away the thing would be a failure, and we should be the ridiculous town-talk for a year."

"But I hate--"

"No matter what you hate. Treat him as you please tomorrow. We need him now;" and so the petted, wilful girl, spoiled by money and flattery, was kept under restraint.

A great deal of preparation was required for the last two pieces on the programme, and the young ladies grouped themselves not far off while Dennis worked. Christine explained from time to time as the natural leader of the party. Still an awkward silence followed the scene above described. This restraint could not long endure, and one of the colorless young ladies asked a question that led to more than she intended, and indeed, more than she understood.

"Christine, what do you do with yourself Sundays? Your pew is not occupied once in an age."

"I usually paint most of the day, and ride out with papa in the afternoon when it is pleasant."

"Why, you are a perfect little heathen!" they all exclaimed in chorus.

"Yes, I suppose I am worse than a pagan," she said, "for I not only do not believe in your superst.i.tions, but have none of my own."

"What do you believe in, then?" asked Miss Winthrop.

"Art, music, fame, power."

She announced her creed so coolly and decidedly that Dennis lifted a startled face to hers. She saw his grieved, astonished expression, and it amused her very much. Henceforth she spoke as much for his benefit as for theirs.

"If you would be equally honest," she continued, "you would find that your creeds also are very different from the one in the prayer-book."

"And what would mine be, pray," asked one of the colorless young ladies.

"I will sum it up in one sentence, Miss Jones--'Keep in the fashion.'"

"I think that you are very unjust. I'm sure I go to church regularly, and attend a great many services in Lent and on Saints' days. I've been confirmed, and all that."

"Yes, it is the thing to do in your set. Now, here is Miss Winthrop, a Presbyterian, who manifests quite another religious phase."

"Pray what is mine?" asked that lady, laughing.

"Oh, you want hair-splitting in regard to the high doctrines--clear, brilliant arguments, cutting like sharp, merciless steel into the beliefs of other denominations. Then, after your ism has been glorified for an hour on Sunday morning, and all other isms pierced and lashed, you descend from your intellectual heights, eat a good dinner, take a nap, and live like the rest of us till the next Sabbath, when (if it is a fine day) you climb some other theological peak, far beyond the limits of perpetual snow, and there take another bird's-eye view of something that might be found very different if you were nearer to it."

"And what is my phase?" asked Miss Brown.

"Oh, you are an out-and-out sinner, and do just what you please, in spite of priest or prayer-book," said Christine, with a laugh in which all the ladies joined.

"Well," said Miss Brown, "I do not think that I am worse than the rest of you."

"Not in the least," replied Christine. "We all have some form of religion, or none at all, as it accords with our peculiar tastes."

"And you mean to say that having a religion or not is a mere matter of taste?" asked Miss Winthrop.

"Yes, I should say it was, and practically that it _is_. You ladies, and nearly all that I have met, seem to choose a style of religion suited to your tastes; and the tastes of many incline them to have no religion at all."

"Why, Miss Ludolph!" exclaimed Miss Winthrop, her cheeks glowing with honest dissent and zeal for the truth; "our religion is taken from the Bible. Do you not believe in the Bible?"

"No! not in the sense in which you ask the question; nor you either, my charming Miss Winthrop."

"Indeed I do, every word of it," said the orthodox young lady, hotly.

"Let me test you. Miss Brown, have you such a book in the house? Oh, yes, here is an elegantly bound copy, but looking as if never opened.

And now, Miss Winthrop, this city is full of all sorts of horrid people, living in alleys and tenement houses. They are poor, half-naked, hungry, and sometimes starving. Many are in prison, and more ought to be; many are strangers, more utterly alone and lonely in our crowded streets than on a desert island. They are suffering from varieties of disgusting disease, and having a hard time generally. How many hungry people have you fed? How many strangers (I do not mean distinguished ones from abroad) have you taken in and comforted? How many of the naked have you clothed? And how long is your list of the sick and imprisoned that you have visited, my luxurious little lady?"

A real pallor overspread Miss Winthrop's sunny face, for she saw what was coming, but she answered, honestly, "I have done practically nothing of all this." Then she added: "Papa and mamma are not willing that I should visit such places and people. I have asked that I might, but they always discourage me, and tell of the awful experiences of those who do."

"Then they don't believe the Bible, either," said Christine; "for if they did they would insist on your doing it; and if you believed you would do all this in spite of them; for see what is written here; the very Being that you worship and dedicate your churches to will say, because of your not doing this, 'Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels.' And this is but one of many similar pa.s.sages. Now all this is a monstrous fable to me. The idea of any such experiences awaiting my light-hearted little Sybarite here!"

Miss Winthrop had buried her face in her hands, and was trembling from head to foot. The words of G.o.d never seemed so real and true before as now when uttered by an unbeliever.

"I don't believe there is any such place or things," said Miss Brown, bluntly.

"There spake my mature and thoughtful friend who is not to be imposed upon," said Christine, with a touch of irony in her tone.

Dennis had listened in sad wonder. Such words of cynical unbelief were in dark, terrible contrast with the fair young face. He saw the mind and training of her father in all she said, but he bitterly condemned the worldly, inconsistent life of mult.i.tudes in the church who do more to confirm unbelievers than all their sophistries. But as she went on, seemingly having the argument all her own way, his whole soul burned to meet and refute her fatal views. For her own sake and the others'

as well as for the dishonored name of his Lord, he must in some way turn the tide. Though regarded as a humble servitor, having no right to take part in the conversation, he determined that his hands must lift up the standard of truth if no others would or could. To his joy he found that the programme would soon give him the coveted opportunity.

Christine went on with a voice as smooth and musical as the flow of a stream over a glacier.

"I have read the Bible several times, and that is more than all of you can say, I think. It is a wonderful book, and has been the inspiration of some of our best art. There are parts that I enjoy reading very much for their sublimity and peculiarity. But who pretends to live as this old and partially obsolete book teaches? Take my father, for instance. All the gentlemen in the church that I know of can do, and are accustomed to do, just what he does, and some I think do much worse; and yet he is an infidel, as you would term him. And as to the ladies, not the Bible, but fashion rules them with a rod of iron. I have cut free from it all, and art shall be my religion and the inspiration of my life."

As Christine talked on, the twilight deepened, and Dennis worked with increasing eagerness.

"After all," she continued, "it is only history repeating itself. The educated mind to-day stands in the same att.i.tude toward Christianity as that of the cultured mind of Greece and Rome toward the older mythology in the second century. Then as now the form of religion was kept up, but belief in its truth was fast dying out. The cities abounded in gorgeous temples, and were thronged with worshippers, but they sacrificed at the dictates of fashion, custom, and law, not of faith.

So our cities are adorned with splendid churches, and fashion and the tastes of the congregation decide as to the form of service. The sects differ widely with each other, and all differ with the Bible. The ancients gave no more respect to what was regarded as the will of their imaginary deities than do modern Christians to the precepts of the Bible. People went to the ceremonies, got through with them, and then did what they pleased; and so they do now.

"Take for instance one of your commonest doctrines, that of prayer; the majority have no practical belief in it. My father has taken me, and out of curiosity I have attended several prayer meetings. The merest fraction of the congregation are present at the best of times, and if the night is stormy the number out is ridiculously small. Yet all profess to believe that the Lord of heaven and earth will be present, and that it is His will that they should be. Your Bible teaches that the Being who controls completely the destiny of every person will be in the midst of those gathered in His name, to hear and answer their pet.i.tions. If this is true, then no earthly ruler was every so neglected and insulted, so generally ignored, as this very Deity to whom you ascribe unlimited power, and from whom you say you receive life and everything. An eastern despot would take off the heads of those who treated him in such a style; and a republican politician would scoff at the idea of giving office to such lukewarm followers.