How the fellow dared to address Perry Morse, haughty as he generally was, in that familiar tone and manner, must remain unexplained. Almost any other time, Perry would have answered shortly, "That's my affair," and passed on; but tonight he was out of tune; he had missed the lecture for nothing, and being in search of amusement, he replied—
"I got leave of absence to go to church, because I thought that was the style; but it seems the fashion has changed, so I'm out."
"Ho! That's it! Well, just you follow me, and I'll show you a tall thing or two, that will throw your sort of fun in the shade."
A dingy back room, half a dozen boys around a table, a pack of dirty cards, a bottle and some glasses. Nick knew they waited for him, but he knew better than to take Perry Morse into that den, so he turned in at Murphy's saloon, where everything was bright and enticing. It was a rather expensive place, to be sure, but then it was not often he had such a companion, and perhaps in the end it would pay. They found dominoes and dice, and whatever else belongs to the gambler's craft, and they found cigars and liquors, and silver and cut glass, and obsequious attendance. But why try to describe the gilded haunt of sin, or recount the story of the evening? Late that evening, Perry groped his way to his room, his pockets empty and his head—well, something ailed his head—something was the matter the next morning with head, hands, and limbs. Could it have been the wine?
In vain, Miss Wynn looked for the boys of her class the next evening. Excepting Herbert and Willy, none of them appeared at church during the remainder of the week, and when she met them on the Sabbath, all signs of any special interest had vanished. Then it was that these souls resting heavily upon her, she grew weary and faint, until remembering that the work was Christ's, and that surely he must have far more interest than she could have, she took heart again, saying, softly, "In thine own time and way, O God!" Mabel was learning to wait.
[CHAPTER XIII.]
THE CIRCLE BROKEN.
"Jesus, when my soul is parting
From this body frail and weak,
. . . . Thine, my Saviour,
Be the name I last shall speak."
"WELL, Herbert, what are you going to do now?" asked Mr. Earle sometime during that winter. "Are you going to fit for college?"
"Oh, no!" replied Herbert. "I am going to become a merchant, of course. I shall not give up for one failure. Father is on the look-out for a position for me."