Squire Morrison gave his consent when his guest hinted her desire that his daughter should escort her to church. Ada, influenced by real feeling, would have chosen a retired seat, where, unobserved, she could listen to the teaching of the man who occupied so large a portion of her thoughts; but this was not agreeable to Alice, who requested the sexton to show them to a slip near the pulpit.
During the service, the clergyman's eyes rested frequently on those two apparently earnest hearers of the word, causing a thrill of such delight in the heart of poor Ada that she could scarcely conceal her emotion.
Her companion meanwhile was charmed with the intellectual countenance of the preacher, with the elegance of his form, and the rich, mellow tones of his voice. She no longer wondered at the infatuation of her companion, nor hesitated one moment to violate their friendship by a determination to win him for herself if she could.
While Ada was moved to tears by the touching appeal from the pulpit, and forming earnest resolutions of profiting by the discourse, Alice was making her plan for her new conquest. Henceforth the subject of amusements, the theatre, operas, etc., etc., must be tabooed as forbidden pleasures. Religion must be the order of the day; and the artful girl did not hesitate one moment before assuming the sacred guise, nor doubt she could effectually cover the deceit.
After a lingering glance at the desk, the strangers were about to leave the slip, when Ada's friend, Miss Locke, stepped from an opposite pew and welcomed her; then followed an introduction to Miss Saunders, a ceremony Alice never went through in a hurry; and by that time Mr. Barton had reached the aisle on his way out of church.
Nothing was more natural than for his parishioner to introduce him to the strangers, nor for him to walk by their side two-thirds of the way home, as his path was in the same direction. When they parted, Alice was sure she had made an impression.
"Oh, how thankful I am that you came!" cried Ada, pressing her companion's arm. "Didn't it all happen beautifully? And isn't he a splendid preacher?"
Alice smiled complacently.
"He is a gentleman and a scholar," was her cool reply; "and perhaps, if I had not a beau ideal of my own, I might admire him as much as you do. Now I am free to aid you, all in my power."
Two weeks passed, and Mrs. Morrison, a sincere, trusting person, considered her guest a young lady of earnest Christian character; for she not only was present at the three regular services of the Sabbath; but Tuesday and Friday, in company with Ada, wended her way to the vestry, where the weekly lectures were attended. As they went alone, Mr. Barton, as a matter of course, escorted them to Squire Morrison's door, and sometimes entered the parlor for a few minutes. On these occasions, Alice carried on the most of the conversation with the clergyman, while Ada, whose innermost soul had been moved by his pungent appeals, was abundantly content to listen to his instructive remarks. She sometimes envied her friend that she so readily entered into the feelings of the pastor, who, only by an occasional glance, acknowledged her own presence.