Toward spring, after the revival at which we had been converted, we attended a party given by a boy whose father owned the Masonic Hall. It was an innocent affair with dancing and light refreshments. I imagine we were home in our beds before midnight. But a few nights later, at a church sociable, one of the good sisters of the church, attacking a group of us, berated us soundly for attending a dance in a public hall, thus forsaking Christ and espousing the Devil and all his works. Her unjust, intemperate, and tactless accusations made me regard the whole matter more rationally than I had theretofore. Through gossip our little party had grown beyond all recognition. It was characterized as a public dance. Without any foundation whatever it had been asserted that we had had supper at the hotel--a thing reprehensible in itself; that wine had been passed; that Sister had tasted it, but that I had refused it. Whoever had so falsified had done it skilfully, as Kate was then more inclined to dip into the untried than I. But we had been near no hotel, and did not know the taste or sight of wine, except the unfermented “wine” used at Communion. This rigour of our church discipline concerning amusements which I had come to regard as innocent pleasures, made me loth to continue belonging to a body placing such strictures upon its members. Many church members danced and played cards without compunction, but I was strenuously opposed to belonging to anything to which I could not heartily subscribe and obey to the letter. So when, a year or more later, I left home, I requested that my name be taken from the church books. Reluctant to accede to this request, the pastor urged me to take a church letter, but I refused, determined not to begin my new life by professing what I no longer believed or practised; I wanted to start with a clean slate, since I no longer conformed to the rulings of the church. Emancipation from the old teachings and beliefs came about gradually and painfully. When first assailed by doubts as to teachings and traditions formerly accepted unquestioningly, I had tried to talk them over with Mother, but her unreasoning faith irritated me. Unable to command my temper, I was narrowly and harshly critical; her devoutness, her intuitions, her faith all irritated me, counting for almost nothing with me then, when I wanted something to satisfy my reason; wanted to reconcile the conflict between orthodox teachings, and the truths of science as I was coming upon them in my studies. Moreover, I was tenderly attached to the Old Paths, and Mother’s manifestations of feelings I was trying to stifle only increased my intolerance.