on became a matter of small importance, whether there were few or
many, so long as they had the good fortune to be there themselves, and
to have the company of Dr. Eben Tourjee.

Now it so happened that among these four girls there were two to whom
God had given special gifts: though neither of them had ever considered
that there were such things as gifts from God, which they were bound to
use in his service.

There was Ruth Erskine, who had capabilities for music in the ends of
her fingers, that would have almost entranced the angels. What did she
do with her talent? Almost nothing. She hated the sickly
sentimentalities which, set to music, find their way into fashionable
parlors by the score. She was not in the society that knew of, or
craved, the higher, grander kind of music; and because she did, and did
not know it, she simply palled of the kind within her reach and let her
gift lie waste.

Then there was Marion, whose voice was simply grand, both in power and
tone. What had she done with her voice? Sung by the hour to the old
father whose tender memory lingered with her to-day; less than nothing
with it since; no one knew she could sing; she hated singing in school,
she never went anywhere else; so only occasionally could the four walls
of her upper back room have testified that there was a talent buried
there.

Did Dr. Tourjee travel from Boston to Chautauqua for the purpose of
inspiring and educating these two girls. I don't suppose he knew of
their existence, but that makes no difference, they are working out his
lecture all the same; in fact it is nearly a year since these Chautauqua
girls came home, and if you have any sort of desire to know what
Chautauqua theories develop into, when put to the test, please keep a
sharp lookout for "_The Chautauqua Girls at Home_."

As the familiar talk on music went on, Ruth, with her eyes aglow, began
to plan in her own heart, first what she _might_ do, and presently what
she _would_ do. And Marion, at the other end of the seat, went through
the same process neither imagining that these same 'doings' would bring
them together, and lead to endless other doings. But that is just the
way in which life is going on every where, who imagined that what you
did yesterday, would lead your neighbor to do what he _has_ done to-day?

"Luther said: 'Next to theology, I place sacred music.'" This was the
sentence that started a train of thought for Ruth. After that, she
listened