“When you came to me, a little child, I taught you your morning and evening prayers.  Oh, Beulah!  Beulah! now you lay down to sleep without a thought of prayer.  My child, what is to become of you?”

“I don’t know.  But do not be distressed about me; I am trying to do my duty just as conscientiously as though I went to church.”

“Don’t deceive yourself, dear child.  If you cease to pray and read your Bible, how are you to know what your duty is?  How are you to keep yourself ‘pure and unspotted from the world’?  Beulah, a man without religion is to be pitied; but, oh! a Godless woman is a horror above all things.  It is no marvel you look so anxious and hollow-eyed.  You have forsaken the ’ways of pleasantness and the paths of peace.’”

“I am responsible to no one for my opinions.”

“Yes, you are; responsible to God, for he has given truth to the world, and when you shut your eyes, and willingly walk in darkness, he will judge you accordingly.  If you had lived in an Indian jungle, out of hearing of Gospel truth, then God would not have expected anything but idolatry from you; but you live in a Christian land; in the land of Bibles, and ’to whom much is given, much will be expected.’  The people of this generation are running after new doctrines, and overtake much error.  Beulah, since I have seen you sitting up nearly all night, pouring over books that rail at Jesus and his doctrines, I have repented the hour I first suggested your educating yourself to teach.  If this is what all your learning has brought you to, it would have been better if you had been put out to learn millinery or mantua-making.  Oh, my child, you have been my greatest pride, but now you are a grief to me!”

She took Beulah’s hand in hers, and pressed her lips to it, while the tears fell thick and fast.  The orphan was not unmoved; her lashes were heavy with unshed drops, but she said nothing.

“Beulah, I am fifty-five years old; I have seen a great deal of the world, and, I tell you, I have never yet known a happy man or woman who did not reverence God and religion.  I can see that you are not happy.  Child, you never will be so long as you wander away from God.  I pray for you; but you must also pray for yourself.  May God help you, my dear child!”

She left her, knowing her nature too well to hope to convince her of her error.

Beulah remained for some time in the same position, with her eyes fixed on the fire, and her forehead plowed by torturing thought.  The striking of the clock roused her from her reverie, and, drawing a chair near her desk, she took up her pen to complete an article due the next day at the magazine office.  Ah, how little the readers dreamed of the heavy heart that put aside its troubles to labor for their amusement!  To-night she did not succeed as well as usual; her manuscript was blurred, and, forced to copy the greater part of it, the clock struck three before she laid her weary head on her pillow.