"I'm here; I suppose you can see me."

"Yes; but, Ann----"

It was so unusual for Christa to feel even a strong emotion of surprise
that she did not know in the least how to express it.

Ann stopped scrubbing. She had never supposed that Christa would yield
easily to all the terms of the condition; she had not sufficient
confidence in her to explain the truth concerning the secret compact.

"Look here, Christa, do you know that Walker died last night? Now I'll
tell you what it is; you needn't think that the people who are
respectable but not religious will have anything more to do with us,
even in the off-hand way that they've had to do with us before now.
Father's settled all that for us. Now the only thing we've got to do is
to turn religious. We're going to be temp'rance, and never touch a game
of cards. You're going to wear plain black clothes and not dance any
more. It wouldn't be respectable any way, seeing they may catch father
any day, and the least we can do is sort of to go into mourning."

Christa stood bright and beautiful as a child of the morning, and heard
the sentence of this long night passed upon her; but instead of looking
plaintive, a curiously hard look of necessary acquiescence came about
the lines of her cherry lips. Ann was startled by it; she had expected
Christa to bemoan herself, and in this look she recognised that the
younger sister had an element of character like her own, was perhaps
growing to be what she had become. The quality that she honestly
admired in herself appeared disgusting to her in pretty Christa, yet she