"But, Mabel," continued her mother, "it will be so very inconvenient. You cannot walk home, and Michael will not like driving back for you. If you persist in this absurd notion, I suppose I shall have to give up going to church, for I cannot endure the fatigue of remaining to Sabbath-school."
"O mother! It won't be so bad as that. The church is only half-way to the seminary, and I used to walk to school and home again every day in pleasant weather, and I ought not to have grown so delicate in two years as to be unable to walk a quarter of a mile. I do it very often now when out calling or shopping."
"Yes, I know; but there will be rainy Sundays, and besides the dinner hour will interfere. Dear me! I do wish you would give up the ridiculous notion. Everything will be turned upside down if you persist."
Mabel was slightly amused at the idea of her mother's well-ordered establishment being so easily reversed. Then she looked grave as she thought if it were a music lesson, or a dancing lesson, or a croquet club, at any hour of any week-day, breakfast, dinner, or supper would speedily adjust itself to the arrangement. Of so much more apparent importance were these things than the grand work of saving souls, of training the young for the life in this world and for that which is to follow, and which is eternal! Dinner or the Master's work—which shall take precedence?
"Mother," she said, calmly, "there are always difficulties in the way of any undertaking of importance, and I suppose that it is a part of our business to overcome or push them aside. As for rainy Sundays, you and father very seldom go out in unpleasant weather, and I think Michael will help me over that difficulty. As for dinner, I'll take a lunch and wait for supper."
Mrs. Wynn had other objections to urge, or thought she had.
"How obstinate you are, Mabel! I don't want you turned into a prim young woman, going about with your arms full of Testaments in black covers, and Tract Society publications without any covers at all, mixing up with all sorts of people, and getting put on committees and appointed as delegate to conventions, and all that sort of thing. And then if one of those horrid boys gets the measles or mumps, he will be sure to send for you to visit him instead of the minister. Don't be a fanatic, I beg of you."
Mabel made no reply, and her mother continued—
"I don't want to be understood as being opposed to Sunday-schools. I think them a very good thing in their way, and you know that your father is very liberal in giving for the cause. But there are plenty of people to carry them on—people who have nothing else to do—people who are not in society, and who make the concerts, excursions, and such things a sort of substitute for the entertainments of our circle. For them it is all very well, but as for you—"
"As for me, mother," interrupted Mabel, "I beg your pardon for rudeness, but I want to finish that sentence. As for me, I believe that I ought to help. It is Christ's work, and I have no real excuse for standing idle. I want you to consent, just as you would if I proposed to join Professor Mills's Greek class. Let me try it for a few months. It may not be so annoying as you think."