"My dear Louise," he began slowly, then stopped, and, finding that she waited, began again. "The trouble is, wife, I don't know how we can help any of them. They are not good at talking, and the sort of talk in which John and Dorothy indulge wouldn't strike you as being suited to the Sabbath day; in fact, I don't believe you would join in it. They are used to being at home on the Sabbath; we are always home from church by this time, and the afternoon is the same to them it always is. I don't believe we can do anything, dear."
Mrs. Morgan did not look in the least convinced.
"The afternoon ought not to be the same to them it always has been, should it, Lewis? We have come home, a new element in the family. We ought, surely, to have some influence. Can't we find something to say that will do for the Sabbath? What have you talked about with the family before I came? How did you spend Sunday afternoons?"
"Up here, in my room, when it wasn't too cold; and sometimes, when it was, I went to bed, and did my reading and thinking there. I rarely go downstairs on Sunday until milking time. You see, Louise, I really don't know my own family very well. The early age at which I left home, being only back for a few weeks at a time during vacations; then my exile, with Uncle John, to Australia—all this has contributed to making me a sort of stranger among them. I doubt whether John and Dorothy feel much better acquainted with me than they do with you. They were both little things when I went away; and, during this last year, I hardly know what is the matter. Perhaps I haven't gone about it in the right way, but I haven't seemed to make any advances in their direction."
"To be very frank with you, Louise, John is always sullen toward me; and Dorothy acts as though she were half afraid of me, and her foolish jumpings and blushings seem so out of place, when one remembers that she is my own sister, that, I will confess to you, I sometimes feel utterly out of patience with her. As for my mother and father, while I honour them as true, unselfish, faithful parents, there are many subjects upon which we do not think alike; and I am often at a loss to know how to get along without hurting their feelings. The result is, that I shirk the social a good deal, and devote myself to myself, or did. Now that I have you to devote myself to, I am willing to be as social as you please."
The sentence, begun in seriousness, he had purposely allowed to assume a lighter tone; but Louise held with sweet gravity to her former topic.
"Even Christ pleased not himself," she quoted gently. Then added, "You may imagine how pleasant it is to me to sit here with you for a whole quiet day. Nevertheless, Lewis, let us go downstairs to the family, and see if we cannot, as a family, honour the day together."
She had risen as she spoke, and drawn her little rocker away from the stove, preparatory to leaving the room. Very slowly her husband followed her example, reluctance on every line of his face.
"I will go down with you, if you say so; but, honestly, I never dreaded to do anything more in my life! I can imagine that it seems a very strange thing to you, but I really and truly don't in the least know what to say when we got down there—I mean, that will be in keeping with our ideas of the Sabbath, and will help anybody."
"Neither do I," said Louise quietly. "Since we both feel our unfitness, let us kneel down before we go, and ask for the Spirit's guidance. Don't you know he promises: 'Thine ears shall hear a word behind thee saying, This is the way, walk ye in it'? I cannot help thinking that he points us down to that family room; why should not we ask him to fill our mouths?"