"That is not the way to be any better," said Emily. "It is only adding sin to sin."
"I know it, and I wish with all my heart that I were a Christian, but I am not, and there is the end of it. I mean to be different some day."
"Some day may never come," said Emily.
"Well, I know that too. I think about these things, Emily, though I am so wild and careless sometimes. But I am going to turn over a new leaf after holidays, and you will see how much better I shall be. There will be some comfort in saying my prayers, when I am not in a scrape every day of my life."
"Mr. Fletcher would say that was like curing one's self and then sending for the doctor," observed Emily. "How do you expect to get strength to do so much better if you do not pray for it?"
"I don't know!" said Abby, sighing. "I only know that I hav'nt got it now. But, Emily, I should not think that your ways and Delia's would suit very well. She seems to be anything but a religious character."
"Delia is not so much worse than any body else," said Emily. "I know she is not what she ought to be about such things, but she has a great deal of sense and feeling, and I cannot help thinking that she will come round after a while. One thing is, that her step-mother professes to be very pious, and Delia dislikes her so much, that I think it sets her against the whole subject."
"I wonder at that, too," said Abby. "Mother has known Mrs. Mason from a child, and she thinks all the world of her. I was telling her one day, what Delia said about her step-mother, and she said if Delia had any trouble, it must be all her own fault, for there was never a better temper, or better principles than hers."
"Delia thinks it is all artfulness and hypocrisy in her," observed Emily, "but I don't believe any one else would have suited her any better. She was angry at having a step-mother at all, just as I should be. I believe I should hate the best woman that ever lived, if she was my father's second wife."
"Then I think you would do very wrong," said Abby with spirit; "I don't believe any girl ever loved her mother better than I did mine, and she had only been dead a year and a half, when my father married again. But as soon as I heard of it, I made up my mind to make the very best of her, however she might turn out, and to do every thing in my power to make her comfortable in the house. So the day she was coming, I put her room in the neatest order I could, and arranged flowers in the vases, although I could not help crying every now and then, when I thought how my dear mother had used these very things. It did seem hard thus to have a stranger come into her place so soon, but as I said, I had determined to make the very best of it, and the minute she came into the house, though it seemed as though I should choke, I went and kissed her, and called her mother."