That cold shiver trembled again through Ester’s frame as she listened.  Clearly he did not reckon her one of “that sort.”  He had known her but one day, and yet he seemed positive that she stood on an equal footing with himself.  Oh why was it?  How did he know?  Was her manner then utterly unlike that of a Christian, so much so that this young man saw it already, or was it that glass of wine from which she had sipped last evening?—­and at this moment she would have given much to be back where she thought herself two weeks ago, on the wine question; but she stood silent and let him talk on, not once attempting to define her position—­partly because there had crept into her mind this fearful doubt, unaccompanied by the prayer: 

  “If I’ve never loved before,
  Help me to begin to-day”—­

and partly, oh poor Ester, because she was utterly unused to confessing her Savior; and though not exactly ashamed of him, at least she would have indignantly denied the charge, yet it was much less confusing to keep silence, and let others think as they would—­this had been her rule, she followed it now, and Ralph continued: 

“Queer world this?  Isn’t it?  How do you imagine our army would have prospered if one-fourth of the soldiers had been detailed for the purpose of coaxing the rest to follow their leader and obey orders?  That’s what it seems to me the so-called Christian world is up to.  Does the comical side of it ever strike you, Ester?  Positively I can hardly keep from laughing now and then to hear the way in which Dr. Downing pitches into his church members, and they sit and take it as meekly as lambs brought to the slaughter.  It does them about as much good, apparently, as it does me—­no not so much, for it amuses me, and serves to make me good-natured, on good terms with myself for half an hour or so.  I’m so thoroughly rejoiced, you see, to think that I don’t belong to that set of miserable sinners.”

“Dr. Downing does preach very sharp, harsh sermons,” Ester said at last, feeling the necessity of saying something.  “I have often wondered at it.  I think them calculated to do more harm than good.”

“Oh I don’t wonder at it in the least.  I’d make it sharper yet if I were he; the necessity exists evidently.  The wonder lies in that to my mind.  If a fellow really means to do a thing, what does he wait to be punched up about it everlastingly for?  Hang me, if I don’t like to see people act as though they meant it, even if the question is a religious one.  Ester, how many times ought I to beg your pardon for using an unknown tongue—­in other words, slang phrases?  I fancied myself talking to my chum, delivering a lecture on theology, which is somewhat out of my sphere, as you have doubtless observed.  Yet such people as you and I can’t help having eyes and ears, and using them now and then, can we?”

Still silence on Ester’s part, so far as defining her position was concerned.  She was not ashamed of her Savior now, but of herself.  If this gay cousin’s eyes were critical she knew she could not bear the test.  Yet she rallied sufficiently to condemn within her own mind the poor little cards.