I noticed, however, that he partook very sparingly of
dinner; and, in the hour or two which he usually spent on the Sabbath
with us in the drawing-room, he was unusually silent. I went to the
library for a book, leaving him and Mrs. Flaxman alone, and returned just
in time to interrupt, a second time, a conversation clearly not intended
for my ears.
"Yes. She was at church this morning, looking as wickedly beautiful as
ever," he was saying, as if in answer to Mrs. Flaxman's question.
When the church bells began ringing that evening, a strong desire seized
me to claim the fulfillment of his promise to accompany me to the Beech
Street Church. He may have read it in my face.
"Are you going to take me out again to-night?"
"Do you wish to go?" I asked, with girlish eagerness.
"I have told you before it is not polite to reply to a question by asking
another."
"Then I would like very much indeed to go to Mr. Lathrop's church
to-night, if you are willing."
Mrs. Flaxman looked up from her book with amazement.
"You were never at their church before. What will those people think?"
"There must always be a first time, and probably you are aware I am not
in bondage to other people's thoughts," he said, with calm indifference.
"Won't you come, too, Mrs. Flaxman?" I urged.
"With pleasure," was the smiling response.
"What will your Dr. Hill think if he hears you have been to hear
Lathrop?"
"I must endeavor to live above public opinion, as well as you.
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