und of a firm and distinct voice.

"What is this?" she said, and then she lifted a bit of the canvas and
peeped in. "I'm going in here, after all," she said, withdrawing her
head and explaining. "This is a normal class, I guess. That man from
Philadelphia--what is his name? Tyler? Yes, that is it--J. Bennet
Tyler--is leading. I like him; I like his voice ever so much; he makes
you hear, whether you want to or not. Then, someway, you get a kind of
a notion that he not only believes what he says but that he _knows_ it
is so, and that is all there is about it. I like to meet such people now
and then, because they are so rare. Generally people act as though you
could coax them out of their notions in about twenty minutes if you
tried--when they are talking about religious subjects, I mean. Obstinacy
is not so rare a trait where other matters are concerned. Let's go in."

"What is the subject this morning?" Eurie asked, following her guide
around to the entrance, somewhat reluctantly. She was in no mood for
shutting herself inside a tent, and being obliged to listen whether she
wanted to or not. But Marion was in one of her positive moods this
morning, and must either be followed or deserted altogether.

Mr. Tyler was reading from a slip of paper as they entered. This was the
sentence he read:

"Difficulties in interpretation which arise from certain mental
peculiarities of the student. Some minds, and not by any means the
strongest or noblest, must always see the _reason_ for everything."

Marion gave Eurie a sagacious nod of the head.

"Don't you see?" she said. "Now, by the peculiar way in which he read
that, he made believe it was _me_ he meant. And, by the way, I'm not
sure but he is correct. I must say that I like a reason for things. But
what right has he to say that _that_ is an indication of a weak mind?"

"He didn't say so," whispered Eurie.

"Oh, yes he did; it amounted to that. There is where his peculiar use of
words comes in. That man has _studied_ words until he handles them as if
they were foot-balls, and were to go exactly where he sent them."

"He is looking this way. The next thing you know he will throw some at
us for whispering."

This was Ernie's attempt to quiet Marion's tongue. That or some other
influence had the desired effect. She whispered no more, and it was
apparent in a very few minutes that she had become intensely interested
in the theme and in the way it was being handled. An eager