is weary world, a teacher in a graded school, and her one day of
rest was filled with all sorts of washing, ironing and mending work,
until she had fairly come to groan over the prospect of Saturday because
of the burden of work which it brought. She welcomed her callers without
taking her hands from the suds; she was as quiet in her way as Ruth
Erskine was in hers.

This time it was Flossy who asked the important question: "Are you
going?"

Marion answered as promptly as though the question had been decided for
a week.

"Yes, certainly I am going. I thought I told you that when we talked it
over before. I am washing out my collars to have them ready. Ruth, are
you going to take a trunk?"

Ruth roused herself from the contemplation of her brown gloves to say
with a little start:

"How you girls do rush things. Why, I haven't decided yet that I am
going."

"Oh, you'll go," Marion Wilbur said. "The question is, are we to take
trunks--or, rather, are you to? because I know _I_ shall not. I'm going
to wear my black suit. Put it on on Tuesday morning, or Monday is it
that we start? and wear it until we return. I may take it off, to be
sure, while I sleep, but even that is uncertain, as we may not get a
place to sleep in; but for once in my life I am not going to be bored
with baggage."

"I shall take mine," Ruth Erskine said with determination. "I don't
intend to be bored by being without baggage. It is horrid, I think, to
go away with only one dress, and feel obliged to wear it whether it is
suited to the weather or not, or whatever happens to it. Eurie, what are
you laughing at?"

"I am interested in the phenomena of Marion Wilbur being the first to
introduce the dress question. I venture to say not one of us has thought
of that phase of the matter up to this present moment."

While the talk went on the collars and cuffs were carefully washed and
rinsed, and presently Marion, with her hands only a trifle pinker for
the operation, was ready to lean against a chair and discuss ways and
means. Her long apprenticeship in school-rooms had given her the habit
of standing instead of sitting, even when there was no occasion for the
former.

If these four young ladies had been creatures of the brain, gotten up
expressly for the purpose of illustrating extremes of character, instead
of being flesh and blood creations, I doubt whether they could have
better illustrated the different types of young ladyhood. There was Ru