f talk, unless you have some
young ladies of a different type in your party, and from their manner I
rather doubt it."

She had shocked him. He looked not only pained but puzzled.

"I am very sorry," he stammered. "I mean surprised. Yes, and
disappointed. Of course I am that. I think I had imagined that it was
only Christians who could be attracted to Chautauqua at all; I meant to
come to stay through all the services."

"Your aunt, for instance?" Eurie said, inquiringly.

"My aunt is a Christian," he answered, "and a sincere one, too, though I
see for some reason you don't think so. There are degrees in
Christianity, Miss Mitchell, just as there are in amiability, or
culture, or beauty."

"Mr. Rawson!" called a voice from the other end at this moment, and he
in obedience to the call found Eurie a seat near some of her party and
went away, only stopping to say, in low tones:

"I am sorry it is all 'Greek' to you; you would enjoy understanding it,
I am sure."

It so happened that those two people did not exchange another word
together that day, but Eurie had got her thrust when and where she least
expected it. She had taken it for granted that not a single fanatic was
of their party. In the secret of her wise heart she denominated all the
earnest people at Chautauqua fanatics, and all the half-hearted people
hypocrites. Only she, who stood outside and felt nothing, was sincere
and wise.

Meantime Marion had undertaken a strange task. Mr. Charlie Flint was the
gentleman who had drawn his chair near her, and said, as he drew a long
breath:

"It is exceedingly pleasant to breathe air once more that isn't heavy
with psalm singing I think they are running that thing a little too
steep over there. Who imagined that they were going to have meeting
every minute in the day and evening, and give nobody a chance to
breathe?"

"Have they exhausted you already?" Marion asked. "Let me see, this is
the morning of the second day, is it not?"

"Oh, as to myself, I was exhausted before I commenced it. I am only
speaking a word for the lunatics who think they enjoy it. I am one of
the victims to our cousin's whim. He expects to get me converted here, I
think, or something of that sort."

"I wouldn't be afraid of it," Marion said, in disgust. "I don't believe
there is the least danger."

Mr. Charlie chose to consider this as a compliment, and bowed and
smiled, and said:

"Thanks. Now tell me why, please."

"You don't l