Newspaper Page Text
Ings living in squalor and destitution,
their lives unredeemed by faith "
"Both here and abroad," said Mrs.
Lowndes. "Now in Ceylon the poor
Singhalese actually have more than
( one wife, according to the "Mission
ary Review." O, how purposeful our
s lives could be and should be!"
"Instead of our wasting them in
worldly pleasures," said John.
Dorothy could bear it no more. She
rose and ran out of the room. She
knew that she would never made a
helpmate for John. Why, she had
even had insidious dreams of joining
an art class at the Pratt Institute.
They spent that evening at a mis
sionary meeting. Dorothy sat very
soberly beside John; she hardly heard
a word of thespeaker's eloquence, or
of the horrible sfories told by three-j-
murxu, agt;u uuu Bujjeiauuuateu mis
sionaries, who pleaded fervently for
cast-off clothing which should re
place the loin-clothes so immodestly
worn by the natives of the regions
from which they had returned. She
felt that she could live her double life
"Why are you so serious, dear?"
asked John, when Mrs. Lowndes had
retired, instructing John to stay until
eleven o'clock and no later.
Dorothy tried to answer him, but,
instead, she burst into tears and hid
her face in her pocket handkerchief.
j "Dorothy!" exclaimed John in be-
wilderment. "You are unhappy, dear-
A est? Why, with our marriage only
t three months away, you ought to be
as cheerful as a bird. Think of the
bright. future in store for us!"
"I know, John," wept Dorothy, now
quite unable to control herself.
, "Think of the hagpy, useful lives
.that we shall lead," said John. "How
" much good we shall be able to do be
"N fore we die! I intend to let you de
vote all your life to charitable works.
We will take a part in all the big'pub
lic movements; we will give freely to
missionary enterprises "
& "John!" Dorothy burst out, looking
up at him with a pale, resolute face,
"I don't want you ever, ever, to men-'
tion the word 'missionary' to me
again. I am not worthy to be your
wife and I want you to forget me as
quickly as you can. i hate mission
"Dorothy!" John begaK but hel
could not get in a word against the'
"I hate missionaries and all charit-t
able works," she exclaimed. "I am a""
worldly sinner, John. If mamma knew
it would break her heart I have hid-
den it from"her, but I cannot marry?
you with a lie on my lips. John, I I
I have been to the theater three?
times this winter, and and it was
"But Dorothys-" John tried to he
"Wait, John! I have been to the
opera house to see 'II Trovatore,' and
there is nothing the leastbit spiritual
about 'II Trovatore.' And I I-r-oh,
how can I tell you? T have thought
of joining an art class at the Pratt
Institute, John, I am a sinner at heart.
I love worldly things and I I I can't
even feel sorry about it!"
' A remarkable sound niade her look
up from the handkerchief, in which
she had again buried her face. It was
the sound of dancing feet John was
dancing. Ih fact, he was capering up
and down the room."
"I'm so glad!" .he exclaimed. "I'm
a sinner, too, Dorothy. Look at
And he pulled a handful of'theater
ticket stubs out of the pocket of his
"Dorothy,"' he said.sitting down
beside her and putting " his armsj.
round her, "I hate theTmisslonaries,?
too. Yes, it's true. I go to theaters
and, worldly places and and I hoped,
after we were married, to bring you
gradually to a broader view of life."
"Why, John how you must -have
loved me to have pretended so lon
and and hidden your real nature!"
"I guess I did, dear," answered
John soberly. "But-you seef Dorothy,