he said in a quick low whisper: "Eurie, _won't you_?" And she
held her breath for the answer, and could distinctly feel the beating of
her own heart. Eurie turned great gray astonished eyes on her friend,
and said in a firm quiet voice: "I have. I settled that matter on
Saturday. Have you?"

And then those two girls, each with the wonderful surprise ringing music
in her heart, were willing to have that meeting over.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE END OF THE BEGINNING.

It was almost over. Dr. Deems sat down amid the hush of hearts, and all
the people seemed to feel that no more words were needed. Yet, the next
moment, they greeted Frank Beard with joy, and prepared themselves with
great satisfaction to listen to what he had to say. Frank Beard was one
of Chautauqua's favorites.

People had not the least idea that they could be beguiled into laughter;
hearts were too tender for that; yet you should have heard the bursts of
mirth that rang there for the next five minutes! Frank Beard was so
quaint, so original, so innocent in his originality, so pure and
high-toned, even in his fun, and they liked him so much that every
heart there responded to his mirth. The roars of laughter reached as
high as the music had done, but a little while before.

Yet, when people's hearts are tender, and full, it is strange how near
laughter is to tears! Just a sentence from the same lips and the hush
fell on them again.

Frank Beard had brought his heart with him to Chautauqua, and he was
evidently leaving some of it there. The touching little story of his
dream about his mother brought out a flutter of handkerchiefs, and made
tear-stained faces. And when he, simply as a child, tenderly as a
large-souled man, trustfully as only a Christian can, said his farewell,
and told of his joyful hope of meeting them all in the eternal morning,
absolute stillness settled over them.

So many last words--one and another came--just a word, just "good-bye,"
until we meet again; maybe here, next year, maybe there, where good-byes
are never heard. Finally came Dr. Vincent, his strong decided voice
breaking the spell, and helping them to realize that they ware men and
women with work to do:

"Now, my friends," he said, "we really _must_ go home; it is hard to
close; I know that, no one knows it better: we _have_ closed a good many
times, and it won't _stay_ closed. The last word has been said over and
over again. I said it myself, some time ago, and