Fred repeated his request. "I hope the next time you come here it will be with us; you'll strive to collect some of Christ's lost sheep."
"And my husband making a book yonder?"
An awkward silence intervened, and then he said—
"Won't you come in; service is going on?"
Esther followed him. In the tent there were some benches, and on a platform a grey-bearded man with an anxious face spoke of sinners and redemption. Suddenly a harmonium began to play a hymn, and, standing side by side, Esther and Fred sang together. Prayer was so inherent in her that she felt no sense of incongruity, and had she been questioned she would have answered that it did not matter where we are, or what we are doing, we can always have God in our hearts.
Fred followed her out.
"You have not forgotten your religion, I hope?"
"No, I never could forget that."
"Then why do I find you in such company? You don't come here like us to find sinners."
"I haven't forgotten God, but I must do my duty to my husband. It would be like setting myself up against my husband's business, and you don't think I ought to do that? A wife that brings discord into the family is not a good wife, so I've often heard."