Flossy to the
afternoon meeting (since Eurie declared herself so far convalescent as
to be entirely able to remain alone) and the two of the party who had
prided themselves up to this time on their superiority of intellect down
to the wharf to take the boat for Mayville.

The ride thither on the lovely lake was almost enough to excuse them for
their folly. But the question what to do with themselves afterward was
one that burdened them during all that long summer afternoon. They went
to the Mayville House and took a walk on the piazza, and the boarders
looked at them in curiosity, and wondered if it were really a pleasanter
walk than the green fields over at Chautauqua.

They ordered dinner and ate it at the general table with great relish,
Ruth rejoicing over this return to civilized life. One episode of the
table must be noted. Opposite them sat a gentleman who, either from
something in their appearance, or more probably from the reasonable
conclusion that all the strangers who had gathered at the quiet little
village were in some way associated with the great gathering, addressed
them as being part of that great whole.

"You people are going to reap a fine harvest, pecuniarily, to-morrow;
but how about the fourth commandment? You Christians lay great stress on
that document whenever a Sunday reading-room or something of that sort
is being contemplated, don't you?"

The remark was addressed to both of them, but Ruth was too much occupied
with the strangeness of the thought that she was again being counted
among "Christian people" to make any answer. Not so Marion. Her eyes
danced with merriment, but she answered with great gravity:

"We believe in keeping holy the Sabbath day, of course. What has that to
do with Chautauqua. Haven't you consulted the programme and read: 'No
admission at the gates or docks'?"

The gentleman smiled incredulously.

"I have read it," he said, significantly, "and doubtless many believe it
implicitly. I hope their faith won't be shaken by hearing the returns
from tickets counted over in the evening."

There was a genuine flush of feeling on Marion's face now.

"Do you mean to say," she asked, haughtily, "that you have no faith in
the published statement that the gates will be closed, or do you mean
that the association have changed their minds? Because if you have heard
the latter, I can assure you it is a mistake, as I heard the matter
discussed by those in authority this very mor