Shirley had at once identified herself with the struggling little Christian Endeavor society and was putting new life into it, with her enthusiasm, her new ideas about getting hold of the young people of the community, and her wonderful knack of getting the silent ones to take part in the meetings. She had suggested new committees, had invited the music committee to meet her at her home some evening to plan out special music, and to coöperate with the social committee in planning for music at the socials. She always carried a few appropriate clippings or neatly written verses or other quotations to meeting to slip into the hands of some who had not prepared to speak, and she saw to it that her brothers and sisters were always ready to say something. Withal, she did her part so unobtrusively that none of the old members could think she was trying to usurp power or make herself prominent. She became a quiet power behind the powers, to whom the president and all the other officers came for advice, and who seemed always ready to help in any work, or to find a way out of any difficulty. Christian Endeavor in the little white church at once took great strides after the advent of the Hollisters, and even the idlers on the street corners were moved with curiosity to drop into the twilight service of the young people and see what went on, and why everybody seemed so interested. But the secret of it all, Shirley thought, was the little five-minute prayer service that the prayer-meeting committee held in the tiny primary room just before the regular meeting. Shirley as chairman of the prayer-meeting committee had started this little meeting, and she always came into the larger room with an exalted look upon her face and a feeling of strength in her heart from this brief speaking with her Master. Shirley was somewhat aghast the next Sabbath to have Sidney Graham arrive and ask her to take a ride with him. "Why, I was just going to church," she said, half hesitating, and then smiling bravely up at him; "besides, I have a Sunday-school class. I couldn't very well leave them, you know." He looked at her for a moment thoughtfully, trying to bridge in his thoughts this difference between them. Then he said quite humbly, "Will you take me with you?" "To church?" she asked, and there was a glad ring in her voice. Would he really go to church with her? "Yes, and to Sunday School if I may. I haven't been to Sunday School in years. I'd like to go if you'll only let me." Her cheeks grew rosy. She had a quick mental picture of putting him in Deacon Pettigrew's Bible class. "I'm afraid there isn't any class you would enjoy," she began with a troubled look. "It's only a little country church, you know. They don't have all the modern system, and very few teachers." "I should enjoy going into your class very much if I might." "Oh, mine are just boys, just little boys like Harley!" said Shirley, aghast.