"There," said the mother, with an air and tone of general reproach, "I was going to advise you, Blanche, to remain from Sabbath-school, and try to entertain your brother this afternoon. Sabbath-schools and everything else sink in importance compared with the effort to keep a soul from going astray. Now those miserable fellows have come for him, and he will be away with them all the afternoon. I knew there was some special scheme for to-day, which made me doubly anxious that Phil should be rescued from them; but it is too late now." The tone and manner of the speaker made poor Daisy feel like a criminal who had deliberately led her Cousin Phil to his ruin. Blanche had only a sigh for answer. Presently she said: "I shall stay at home, anyway, mamma, if Daisy will excuse me. My head aches, and I don't feel like talking nor thinking." "Oh! Daisy will excuse us, I think. She is quite an independent little lady, I am sure, and able to go alone to Sabbath-school or elsewhere; aren't you, dear?" "Yes 'm," said Daisy bravely, "I shall not mind going alone, if you are not able to go." Then she went away in haste, lest the tears should fall. They had not cared to have her stay: She would willingly have done so, if that would have helped Phil; but she had lost her influence over him, and disappointed mother and sister, and she felt as she set her brown hat on her head, that she wanted to go home to her mother. She had done right; of that she felt sure. But doing right was very hard work sometimes, especially when one was away from one's mother. Down-stairs she could hear Phil moving up and down the room, whistling snatches of tune. He had not gone out yet, it seemed. Perhaps if she hurried away, Blanche could coax him to stay and sing. She seized her Bagster Bible, and ran hastily down-stairs. The whistler came to the hall to meet her. "What a ponderous book!" he said, in mock dismay. "Is it really necessary to carry such a great Bible as that?" "I like it," she said simply. "Like to carry it, I suppose. You ought to have it expressed; but that would not do for Sunday. I see that I shall have to go and carry it." He was donning his overcoat with speed, and possessed himself of the Bible before Daisy could recover from her surprise. It was a long walk to the church, and the air was brisk and clear. The sun shone brilliantly, and Phil was at his brightest; every trace of ill humor seemed to have passed away. It was not until they neared the church, that he referred to the events of the day before. "So, Daisy, you wouldn't go to a theatre with me, even to save my soul, which has seemed to trouble you so much?" "Oh, Phil, I couldn't do wrong, you know, whatever the imaginary motive; and I had no hope at all that my doing a wrong thing would help you or any one in the least. I had to do as I did; I wish I could make you understand that." "Was it hard work?" "What? To stay at home, do you mean?" "Yes; did you really want to go?"