ever-recurring question came up to be thought over afresh.  Clearly they were unlike—­utterly unlike.  Now was Abbie right and she wrong? or was Abbie—­no, not wrong, the word would certainly not apply; there absolutely could be no wrong connected with Abbie’s way.  Well, then, queer!—­unlike other people, unnecessarily precise—­studying the right and wrong of matters, which she had been wont to suppose had no moral bearing of any sort, rather which she had never given any attention to?  While she waited and queried, her eye caught a neat little card-receiver hanging near her, apparently filled with cards, and bearing in gilt lettering, just above them, the winning words:  “FREE TO ALL.  TAKE ONE.”  This was certainly a kindly invitation; and Ester’s curiosity being aroused as to what all this might be for, she availed herself of the invitation, and drew with dainty fingers a small, neat card from the case, and read: 

I SOLEMNLY AGREE,

As God Shall Help Me: 

1.  To observe regular seasons of secret prayer, it least in the morning and evening of each day.

2.  To read daily at least a small portion of the Bible.

3.  To attend at one or more prayer-meetings every week, if I have strength to get there.

4.  To stand up for Jesus always and everywhere.

5.  To try to save at least one soul each year.

6.  To engage in no amusement where my Savior could not be a guest.

Had the small bit of card-board been a coal of fire it could not have been more suddenly dropped upon the marble before her than was this, as Ester’s startled eyes took in its meaning.  Who could have written those sentences? and to be placed there in a conspicuous corner of a fashionable store?  Was she never to be at peace again?  Had the world gone wild?  Was this an emanation from Cousin Abbie’s brain, or were there many more Cousin Abbies in what she had supposed was a wicked city, or—­oh painful question, which came back hourly nowadays, and seemed fairly to chill her blood—­was this religion, and had she none of it?  Was her profession a mockery, her life a miserably acted lie?

“Is that thing hot?” It was Ralph’s amused voice which asked this question close beside her.

“What?  Where?” And Ester turned in dire confusion.

“Why that bit of paper—­or is it a ghostly communication from the world of spirits?  You look startled enough for me to suppose anything, and it spun away from your grasp very suddenly.  Oh,” he added, as he glanced it through, “rather ghostly, I must confess, or would be if one were inclined that way; but I imagined your nerves were stronger.  Did the pronoun startle you?”

“How?”

“Why I thought perhaps you considered yourself committed to all this solemnity before your time, or willy-nilly, as the children say.  What a comical idea to hang one’s self up in a store in this fashion.  I must have one of these.  Are you going to keep yours?” And as he spoke he reached forward and possessed himself of one of the cards.  “Rather odd things to be found in our possession, wouldn’t they be?  Abbie now would be just one of this sort.”