The apartments occupied by Marion were situated in a fashionable part of the city. Wishing to be entirely independent, and yet desirous of avoiding the publicity of a hotel, she had persuaded Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, friends of her parents, to hire this house next to a hotel and allow her the entire use of the second floor. Her meals being sent in from the table d'hôte, she could indulge her hospitality without burdening her friends, who were advanced in age. Besides Hepsey, she had a boy of sixteen years, whom she employed in various ways, accompanying her in stormy weather in her visits to the poor, going errands, etc. This boy, Jim, or, as she called him, James Kelly, was one of the first-fruits of her mission work, and, being an orphan like herself, she was deeply interested in his welfare.
At the death of her parents, their home in the country was rented, the furniture, with the exception of certain costly articles, pictures, etc., being allowed to remain in the house. These had been brought to the city, and now beautified her pleasant home. Marion had a passion for flowers, and at her own expense had built out from her parlor a small conservatory, which was filled with her favorite plants. One seldom saw her without a bud of some kind doing service for a brooch at her throat; and in her calls upon the sick, a few fresh-cut violets or a sweet rose-bud proved a great help in gaining the confidence she so earnestly sought.
Believing, as she did, that our social qualities were given us to be cultivated, our young friend gave frequent entertainments, always supported by the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell. To further her own plans she selected games, encouraged charades, improvised characters, occasionally taking part herself, on which occasions she abandoned herself to the enjoyment with the freshness of a child.
"I believe," she responded to a Christian friend, who was taking her to task for encouraging a taste for the theatrical,—"I believe that I have done more good by my charades than I could have hoped for in any other way. In one instance I have in mind, at a critical period for a young favorite, I persuaded her to come to a charade I got up especially for her; and I am satisfied the result was happy. She was in danger of giving way to evil influences; her conscience troubled her; she became very irritable. I had a little talk with her, took her with me to visit a poor family, who were indeed rich in faith, and then invited her to my entertainment. She came to me the second day after and, with a burst of joyful tears, threw herself into my arms, exclaiming,—
"'I'm so happy: the struggle is over. Oh, I can never tell you how I thank you!' She had given up the acquaintance of one who was leading her astray, who would have made her a wretched husband, who had denounced Christians as gloomy fanatics, who considered laughing a sin, etc. My party, mirthful and gay as it was, commended itself to her conscience; even the play itself conveyed to her excited mind a high moral sentiment, as I had intended. She went home, passed the night pacing the floor, while she asked help of God to decide aright. She is now an earnest, cheerful, Christian worker. Unsolicited, she left the fashionable church which she had been attending, and is my powerful alto singer at our mission."
[CHAPTER VIII.]
PLEASANT PROJECTS.
ON Ethel's fifth birthday she claimed the promise of her mother,—that she should sit up to family prayers. Except on Sunday night, when supper was served at an earlier hour than on other days, it was her habit to eat her simple meal of bread and milk and be in bed before the ringing of the supper-bell.
Sitting up for prayers was quite an era in her young life. No sooner was the meal concluded than she brought her low chair and placed it close to Mr. Angus. It was the custom to sing a hymn before reading the Scriptures, and the pastor held the book so that Ethel could look on the page with him. As he named the hymn he merely remarked, "It is pleasant to have all join in this social worship."
The child, considering herself included in this invitation, as indeed she was, began in a low timid tone to sing her own little hymn, but presently, becoming used to the sound of her voice, sang so loud as almost to drown the tones of the piano, upon which Annie was playing. Over and over again she repeated the words, "Jesus, come and make me good, good, Jesus come and make me good."