What an exceedingly trying and troublesome talk this was to Ester!  What was she to say?

Clearly nothing but the truth.

“Abbie, I haven’t a friend in the world.”

“You poor, dear child; then we are situated very much alike after all—­though I have dear friends outside of my own family; but what a heavy responsibility you must feel in your large household, and you the only Christian.  Do you shrink from responsibility of that kind, Ester?  Does it seem, sometimes, as if it would almost rush you?”

“Oh, there are some Christians in the family,” Ester answered, preferring to avoid the last part of the sentence; “but then—­”

“They are half way Christians, perhaps.  I understand how that is; it really seems sadder to me than even thoughtless neglect.”

Be it recorded that Ester’s conscience pricked her.  This supposition on Abbie’s part was not true.  Dr. Van Anden, for instance, always had seemed to her most horribly and fanatically in earnest.  But in what rank should she place this young, and beautiful, and wealthy city lady?  Surely, she could not be a fanatic?

Ester was troubled.

“Well,” said Abbie, “suppose I read you some of my sweet verses.  Do you know I always feel a temptation to read in John?  There is so much in that book about Jesus, and John seemed to love him so.”

Ester almost laughed.  What an exceedingly queer idea—­a temptation to read in any part of the Bible.  What a strange girl her cousin was.

Now the reading began.

“This is my verse when I am discouraged—­’Wait on the Lord; be of good courage and he shall strengthen thine heart; wait, I say, on the Lord.’  Isn’t that reassuring.  And then these two.  Oh, Ester, these are wonderful!  ’I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins; return unto me; for I have redeemed thee.’  ’Sing, O ye heavens; for the Lord hath done it; shout, ye lower parts of the earth; break forth in singing, ye mountains, O forest, and every tree therein; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel.’  And in that glorious old prophet’s book is my jubilant verse—­’And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.’”

“Now, Ester, you are very tired, aren’t you? and I keep dipping into my treasure like a thoughtless, selfish girl as I am.  You and I will have some precious readings out of this book, shall we not?  Now I’ll read you my sweet good-night Psalm.  Don’t you think the Psalms are wonderful, Ester?”