But something must be said.  Sadie was not going to sit there and allow Dr. Van Anden to imagine that she was utterly quieted and conquered; she would rather quarrel with him than have that.  He had espoused Dr. Douglass’ cause so emphatically, let him argue for him now; there was nothing like a good sharp argument to destroy the effect of unpleasant personal questions—­so she blazed into sudden indignation: 

“I think Dr. Douglass is a hypocrite!”

Nothing could have been more composed than the tone in which she was answered: 

“Very well.  What then?”

This question was difficult to answer, and Sadie remaining silent, her companion continued: 

“Mr. Smith is a drunkard; therefore I will be a thief.  Is that Miss Sadie Ried’s logic?”

“I don’t see the point.”

“Don’t you?  Wasn’t that exclamation concerning Dr. Douglass a bit of hiding behind the supposed sin of another—­a sort of a reason why you were not a Christian, because somebody else pretended to be?  Is that sound logic, Sadie?  When your next neighbor in class peeps in her book, and thereby disgraces herself, and becomes a hypocrite, do you straightway declare that you will study no more?  You see it is fashionable, in talking of this matter of religion, to drag out the shortcomings and inconsistencies of others, and try to make of them a garment to covet our own sins; but it is very senseless, after all, and you will observe is never done in the discussion of any other question.”

Clearly, Sadie must talk in a common-sense way with this straightforward man, if she talked at all.  Her resolution was suddenly taken, to say for once just what she meant; and a very grave and thoughtful pair of eyes were raised to meet the doctor’s when next she spoke.

“I think of these things sometimes, doctor, and though a great deal of it seems to be humbug, it is as you say—­I know some are sincere, and I know there is a right way.  I have been more than half tempted many times during the last few weeks to discover for myself the secret of power, but I am deterred by certain considerations, which you would, doubtless, think very absurd, but which, joined with the inspiration which I receive from the ridiculous inconsistencies of others, have been sufficient to deter me hitherto.”

“Would you mind telling me some of the considerations?”

And the moment Sadie began to talk honestly, the doctor’s tones lost their half-indifferent coolness, and expressed a kind and thoughtful interest.

“No,” she said, hesitatingly.  “I don’t know that I need, but you will not understand them; for instance, if I were a Christian I should have to give up one of my favorite amusements—­almost a passion, you know, dancing is with me, and I am not ready to yield it.”

“Why should you feel obliged to do so if you were a Christian?”

Sadie gave him the benefit of a very searching look.  “Don’t you think I would be?” she queried, after a moment’s silence.