"What is?"
"To get a fellow to promise what he can't do."
"I have not. Don't you want to be a Christian?"
"No; I can't say that I'm particular about it."
"But that's too silly to believe. You need a friend to help you about as badly as any one I know of, and when you can have one for the asking, why shouldn't you want Him? Besides, I didn't say make you a Christian, anyhow; I said make you want to be one. You can pray, that I'm sure; any way, you promised, and I trusted you."
Bob followed him through the hall, up the stairs, to his neat little room, and whistled "Hail, Columbia," while he lighted a match and turned on the gas.
"My! you have things in style here, don't you?" he said, looking around, while the bright light gleamed over the pretty carpet and shining furniture.
"Yes," said Edward; "everything in this house is in style. Bob, it's half-past eight."
"Well," Bob said good-naturedly, "I'd like to know what I'm to do; this is new business to me, you see."
"I'm going to kneel down here and pray for you, and you promised to do the same."