“I think I do, Miss Ester.  The question is, do you understand yourself?  Let me state the case.  You are decidedly not a woman’s rights lady.  I am decidedly not a woman’s rights gentleman—­that is, in the general acceptation of that term.  You would think, for instance, that Abbie was out of her sphere in the pulpit or pleading a case at the bar.  So should I. In fact, there are many public places in which you and I, for what we consider good and sufficient reasons, would not like to see her.  But, on the other hand, we both enjoy Mrs. Burton’s reports, either verbal or written, as she may choose.  We, in company with many other ladies and gentlemen, listen respectfully; we both greatly enjoy hearing Miss Ames sing; we both consider it perfectly proper that she should so entertain us at our social gatherings.  At our literary society we have both enjoyed to the utmost Miss Hanley’s exquisite recitation from ‘Kathrina.’  I am sure not a thought of impropriety occurred to either of us.  We both enjoyed the familiar talk on the subject for the evening, after the society proper had adjourned.  So the question resolves itself into this:  It seems that it is pleasant and proper for fifty or more of us to hear Mrs. Burton’s report in Mrs. Burton’s parlor—­to hear ladies sing—­to hear ladies recite in their own parlors, or in those of their friends—­to converse familiarly on any sensible topic; but the moment the very same company are gathered in our chapel, and Mrs. Burton says, ’Pray for my class,’ and Miss Ames says, ‘I love Jesus,’ and Miss Hanley says, ‘The Lord is the strength of my heart, and my portion forever,’ it becomes improper.  Will you pardon my obtuseness and explain to me the wherefore?”

But Ester was not in a mood to explain, if indeed she had aught to say, and she only answered with great decision and emphasis:  “I have never been accustomed to it.”

“No!  I think you told me that you were unaccustomed to hearing poetical recitations from young ladies.  Does that condemn them?”

To which question Ester made no sort of answer, but sat looking confused, ashamed and annoyed all in one.  Her companion roused himself from his half reclining attitude on the sofa, and gave her the benefit of a very searching look; then he came to an erect posture and spoke with entire change of tone.

“Miss Ester, forgive me if I have seemed severe in my questionings and sarcastic in my replies.  I am afraid I have.  The subject is one which awakens sarcasm in me.  It is so persistently twisted and befogged and misunderstood, some of the very best people seem inclined to make our prayer-meetings into formidable church-meetings, for the purpose of hearing a succession of not very short sermons, rather than a social gathering of Christians, to sympathize with, and pray for and help each other, as I believe the Master intended them to be.  But may I say a word to you personally?  Are you quite happy as a Christian?  Do you find your love growing stronger and your hopes brighter from day to day?”