very well develop into a sermon,
or close with a prayer-meeting. Then I'm going to the concert by the
Tennesseeans;' their jargon won't hurt me; and, of course, I shall
attend the President's reception. I must have a stare at him--and that
is every solitary meeting I am going to attend. I've heard the last
preaching that I mean to for some time."

Now this was what Eurie Mitchell _said_. Let me tell you a little bit
about what she _thought_. She was by no means so indifferent, nor so
bored as she would have Marion understand. She was by no means in the
state of mind that Ruth had been, or that Marion was. No doubts as to
the general truth of all the vital doctrines of Christianity had ever
troubled her. She accepted without question the belief of the so-called
Christian World. Neither was she bewildered as to what constituted
Christian life. No vague notion that to unite herself with some church
would let her into the charmed circle had ever befogged her brain.

On the contrary, she knew better than many a Christian does just what
the Christian profession involved, and just how narrow a path ought to
be walked by those professing to follow Christ. In proportion to the
keenness of her sarcasm over blundering, stumbling Christians, had her
eyes been open to what they ought to be.

There was just this the matter with Eurie. She knew so well what
religious professions involved that she wanted to make none. She hated
the thought of self-abnegation, of bridling her eager tongue, of going
only where her enlightened conscience said a Christian should go, of
looking out for and calling after others to go with her. She wished
deliberately to ignore it all. Not forever, she would have been shocked
at the thought. Some time she meant to give intense heed to these
things, and then indeed the church should see what a Christian _could_
be! But not now.

There were a hundred things laid down in her programme for the coming
winter that she knew perfectly well were not the things to do or say,
provided she were a Christian, and she deliberately wished to avoid the
fear of becoming one. Just here she was afraid of the influence of
Chautauqua.

How was it possible to attend these meetings, to listen to these daily,
hourly addresses, teeming either directly or indirectly with the same
thought, personal consecration, without feeling herself drawn within the
circle? She would _not_ be drawn. This was her deliberate conclusion,
therefore