"We are doing our duty beautifully."
"Are you complimenting yourself because you are afraid no one will perform that office?" Ruth asked, laughing.
"No, I'm doing it because I have begun to be sincere. I've made a discovery to-night. Ruth, it is you and I who are hypocritical, in refusing to say what we think about people, when it would sound real nicely, and would doubtless make them feel pleasanter and happier."
Meantime, Ruth had her lesson also that she had been learning. What a trial parties had always been to her! How haughtily she had stood aloof enduring with annoyed heart, and oftentimes with curling lip, sillinesses that she could not avoid, listening to conversations and joining in monosyllables when obliged to do so, that drove her to the very verge of patience, not once imagining that there was any help for her, any hope of stemming the current, or in any way changing the accepted course of things.
She was learning. Several times during the evening it had been her fortune to stand near Evan Roberts and join in the conversation which he was carrying on. Each time she was amazed and thrilled to see with what consummate skill and tact he turned the current of thought towards the vital question of personal religion. Always with an easy familiarity of expression that made one feel and realize that to him it was a matter of course, and as natural to be talked about, as the sunshine or the moonlight.
Wondering over this peculiarity of his, once as they talked together she referred to it.
"I can conceive of parties being less of a trial to you than to many of us, because of the ability you have of turning the conversation to some account."
He smiled brightly. "They are not," he said. "I have often looked forward to an evening gathering with eager interest and thankfulness, because of the opportunity for meeting some there whom I could not catch elsewhere and saying a word for my Master. But, Miss Erskine, you speak of 'ability,' I simply use my tongue on that subject as on any other worthy of thought."
"But don't you think it requires a peculiar sort of tact to be able to bring in such subjects in a manner calculated to do any good?"
He shook his head, "I should say rather, it required a sincere heart, and an earnest desire to interest a soul. We depend too much on tact and too little on God's spirit. 'Open thy mouth and I will fill it,' is a promise that applies to more places than a prayer-meeting, I think. What we need most to overcome is the idea that there is anything wicked in talking about religion in an everyday tone, as we talk about other topics of absorbing interest."