"You might," Mrs. Gray replied, "I did not wish to stay late."
Hubert went out with alacrity to signal the faithful coachman, already in waiting.
They had soon departed, and both young people were glad to get out under the pure, gleaming stars and hasten the carriage to the dear home where the face of the Lord had first been seen by each, and was yet to be seen in increasing loveliness.
Hubert found his father still in the library, but asleep. He awoke as his son entered.
"Well, Hubert," he said, "did you have a good time?"
"No, sir," Hubert replied, "I had a wretched time."
"How was that?" his father asked. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened that I expected. I thought there would be some there who knew and loved Jesus Christ, and would wish to talk of Him. I did not hear Him mentioned. I might as well have been at Mrs. Butterworth's ball so far as that goes."
"Well," said Mr. Gray, apologetically, "it was a social time, you know."
"Yes, I know it, father. That is why I went. Are not people usually most sociable about the things that interest them most? There was a company of people, professedly born from above and expecting soon to see the very glory of God. They take it very coolly, at all events. I believe it is a sham."