'Our Guy' or, The elder brother. Mrs. E. E. Boyd
isn't it? Promises well for the year?"
"One would think you expected somebody."
"So I do; a gentleman."
"O, Guy, you mean; but what is the reason you have your best dress on?"
"Indeed that is the very reason. I don't know for whom I should want to dress, if not for Guy."
"Of course, Ruth, we should do more for him than for anyone, but you are so careful of your good clothes, and so seldom wear them at home."
"Well, I have been thinking perhaps I had better pay more attention to my appearance. Fix up a little more to be like other people, I mean. One feels better satisfied with herself when she is looking well. And then, Agnes, as Guy goes more into society, I fancy he is becoming fastidious."
"Yes, I suppose so," returned Agnes, re-arranging her neck-tie. "How do I look, Ruth; does this dress look shabby?"
"Shabby! one would scarcely know that it is not new. You always look well dressed; but it takes a great deal of fixing to set me off."
Guy's face showed his approbation as he glanced over the table, and his "Why, girls, this is a feast fit for a king!" carried with it, greater pleasure, than the most graceful compliment from other lips could have done. After dinner they walked out together "to see the New Year," Guy said; and the girls felt sure that he must know all the great men of the town, he bowed to so many. Then he was not the least ashamed of his sisters either, Ruth thought, and she became quite animated, so that Agnes, who knew nothing of the reason, wondered at the unusually high spirits. She was very happy, for she was with the two she loved best on earth, and it seemed such a glad beginning to the year. She smiled, talked, and looked to where Guy pointed, seeing beauty in everything, even in the ragged children who begged pennies as they passed along, for an inward light gave the charm, and a sweeter voice than that of brother or sister, made gladness. Several visits were made that afternoon to old friends who urged them to stay for tea; and it would have been pleasant, the girls thought, but Guy appeared anxious to go home, so they yielded very cheerfully. Guy had been planning a delightful surprise for his sisters, and he meant to make the announcement at the tea-table.
"Now for home and an early tea," he said after making their last call.
The girls brightened at the thought that home was really becoming attractive to Guy, and although they had thought it would be pleasant to free themselves from home duties for one evening and enjoy it with their friends, they lost sight of their own wishes in their great desire to please Guy.
"It is the best place after all, isn't it?" said Agnes, looking at her brother, who was holding the door for his sisters to enter. But his hasty, "Yes, hurry up with tea, girls," gave a new turn to their thoughts. Perhaps after all he meant to spend the evening out.
"Wouldn't it have been delightful if we could have staid at Borden's?" asked Agnes, sitting down at the foot of the bed, her favorite seat, as she untied her bonnet.
"Indeed it would," was the reply. "I don't know when I ever wanted so much to stay. We might often go out for tea if it were not for Guy, and that is one reason I wish we could keep a servant."
"A servant would not be company for him, Ruth, he would not come home at all for tea if we were not here. But if he cared more for our friends he would be more willing to visit with us. I don't think, however men care to be from home at meal-time, and I am so glad Guy is not dissatisfied with our plain way of living, now that he sees so much style and moves in such a refined circle."
"Where would be the use in being dissatisfied, he knows it can't be helped," was Ruth's reply as she turned to leave the room.
"I thought you were hungry," remarked Ruth, as Guy refused one or two dishes that were handed him.
"Not very," was the reply.
"Well that was cool, hurrying us home as if you were on the point of starvation, and now acknowledging that you are not hungry," said Agnes, laughing.
"O, I only wanted you to have tea over soon, so that we could go out."
"Out!" exclaimed both, "where?"
"To the theatre, there is a splendid bill for to-night. Look your very best girls."
A deathlike silence followed this announcement, and as Guy had finished, he rose from the table and went into the parlor, leaving his sisters sitting there. When he had gone they looked at each other. "O, Ruth!" said Agnes, sorrowfully. And Ruth replied, sharply, "Well?" but it had a sound of pain as if she had encountered some terrible sorrow, yet meant to bear it.
"He will be so angry," continued Agnes. "O, I wish we had staid at Borden's. Hadn't we better tell him now that we cannot go?"
"You can tell him for yourself, Agnes," and Ruth began removing the dishes with as much haste as if she were eager to go.
"And you, Ruth?"
"I am going."
"Ruth, you certainly cannot mean it. Going to the theatre and you a Christian, and this is the first day of the year. O, Ruth, remember last night and your covenant." Her arms were round her sister now as though she would hold her back from evil, but Ruth shook her off, and ran hastily up stairs to the school-room. Locking the door, she walked up and down the room, with hands tightly clasped and a face expressive of the strongest conflict.
"Last night, and your covenant," yes, she remembered only too well. But was not she right in this? Guy would go to these places and he must not go alone. Her sister was the best one to go with him. He could never go wrong if she were with him. What was the use of praying that he might become a Christian, and leaving him to go alone as he chose. No, she would win him over. He should see that Christians did not have to attend church and pray all the time, for that would make him dislike religion, but that they were like other people, only better.
When all this was settled, she began her preparations tremblingly, thinking how very plain her dress would be compared with the handsome dresses, to be seen there, but determined to appear well for Guy's sake, and not to let him know the struggle she had passed through.
As she left the school-room and ascended the short flight of stairs leading to their bedroom, she heard Agnes and Guy talking.
"She is telling him," she said. "O, I wish I could be Agnes! but we are differently constituted, and there are different requirements made of us. Agnes does the praying, and I must make the efforts, the sacrifices."
Yes, Agnes was telling her brother. She had not to reason as to what was right or wrong in this case, having read that we are to shun every appearance of evil, and to keep ourselves unspotted from the world. Her heart beat fast, and her voice trembled, but not with indecision; for her soul was strong in its purpose to do right at all cost as she entered the room and said:
"Guy, I can't go to the theatre."
"What's the reason you can't?" was the surprised inquiry.
"Because our church does not allow it, and I do not think it is a good place."
"You don't! how do you know when you never were there? See here, Agnes, don't be a simpleton. Where is Ruth? I'll be bound she'll go; she has good sense and good taste. I saved up cigar money this week on purpose to take you. Hurry now, or we shall not get good seats."
"I can't do wrong, Guy; I must not go;" and Agnes went out of the room, back into the bright little kitchen where she had been so happy that morning. She wanted to go to her own room, but Ruth was there.
Guy was angry, very angry, Agnes thought, from his voice as he spoke to Ruth, but they passed out and she was alone.
CHAPTER III.