what to do with her heavy heart, and felt that she
might as soon walk down by the lake shore as do anything else; so down
to the shore they went, and gave themselves up to the full enjoyment of
the novel scene--an evening in the woods, great, glowing lights on every
side, great companies of people passing to and fro, boats touching at
the wharves and sending up group after group to the central attraction,
the grand stand; singing, music by thousands of voices ringing down to
them as they loitered under the trees on the rustic seats.

"I declare, it must be nice in heaven for a little while."

It was Eurie who made this somewhat startling discovery and announcement
after a lull had fallen upon their mirth.

"Have you been there to see?" illogically asked Marion, as she threw a
tiny stone into the water and watched the waves quiver and ripple.

Eurie laughed.

"Not quite, but this must be a little piece of it--this music, I mean. I
am almost tempted to make an effort after the real thing. How
exquisitely those voices sound! I'm very certain I should enjoy the
music, whether I should be able to get along with the rest of the
programme or not. What on earth do you suppose they do there all the
time, anyway?"

"Where?"

"Why, in heaven, of course; that is what I was talking about. I believe
you are half asleep, Flossy Shipley; you mustn't go to sleep out here;
it isn't quite heaven yet, and you will take cold. Honestly, girls,
isn't it a sort of wonderment to you how the people up there can employ
their time? In spite of me I cannot help feeling that it must be rather
stupid; think of never being able to lie down and take a nap!"

"Or read a novel," added Marion. "Isn't that your favorite employment
when you are awake, Eurie? I'm sure I don't know much about the
occupations of the place; I'm not posted; there is nothing about it laid
down in our geography; and, in fact, the people who seem to be expecting
to spend their lives there are unaccountably mum about it. I don't at
this moment remember hearing any one ever express a downright opinion,
and I have always thought it rather queer. I asked Nellie Wheden about
it one day when she was going on about her expected tour in Europe. She
had bored me to death, making me produce all my geographic and historic
lore for her benefit; and suddenly I thought of an expedient for giving
myself a little peace and a chance to talk about something else. 'Come,
Nellie,' I said, 'o