Ester was thoroughly ill at ease; all this condemned her—and at last, resolved to escape from this net work of her awakening conscience, she pushed boldly on. "People have different views on this subject as well as on all others. Now Abbie and I do not agree in our opinions. There are things which she thinks right that seem to me quite out of place and improper."
"Yes," he said inquiringly, and with the most quiet and courteous air; "would you object to mentioning some of those things?"
"Well, as an instance, it seemed to me very queer indeed to hear her and other young ladies speaking in your teachers' prayer-meeting. I never heard of such a thing, at least not among cultivated people."
"And you thought it improper?"
"Almost—yes, quite—perhaps. At least I should never do it."
"Were you at Mrs. Burton's on the evening in which our society met?"
This, to Ester's surprise, was her companion's next very-wide-of-the-mark question. She opened her eyes inquiringly; then concluding that he was absent-minded, or else had no reply to make, and was weary of the subject, answered simply and briefly in the affirmative.
"I was detained that night. Were there many out?"
"Quite a full society Abbie said. The rooms were almost crowded."
"Pleasant?"