Flossy listened to this and the sentences that followed, thrilling her heart with their power and beauty--thrilling as they would not have done one week ago, for did she not know by actual experience just how blessed a worker the great Maker was? Had she not carried her heart to him, and had he not left his indelible impression there? Oh, this was a wonderful meeting to Flossy--one that she will never forget--one that many others will have reason to remember, because of the way in which she listened. But was it not strange, the way in which her education was being cared for?
After tea she stood at the entrance of the tent, looking out for the girls--looking out, also, on the cool, quiet sunset and the glory spread everywhere, for there had been sunshine that day, part of the time, and there was a clear sun setting. Under her arm she held the treasure which she had in the morning determined to possess--a good, plain, large-print Bible, not at all like the velvet-covered one that lay on her toilet-stand at home, but such as the needs of Bible students at Chautauqua had demanded, and therefore much better fitted for actual service than the velvet.
Among the many passers-by came Mrs. Smythe. She halted before Flossy.
"Good-evening. I thought your party must have left. I haven't seen you since Thursday. Haven't you been fearfully bored? We are going to leave on Monday morning--going to Saratoga. Don't some of you want to join us?
"I don't know," Flossy said, thoughtfully mindful of Ruth and her plan that had not worked. "It is possible that Miss Erskine may. Do your entire party go?"
"Oh, not my nephew, of course! Nothing could tear him away. He is perfectly charmed with all this singing and praying and preaching, but I confess it is too much of a good thing for me. I am not intellectually inclined, I like the music very well, and some of the addresses are fine; but there is such a thing as carrying meetings to excess."
At this point she turned quickly at the sound of a firm step behind her, and greeted a young man.
"Speak of angels and you hear their wings, or the squeak of their boots," she said. "We were just talking about you, Evan. My nephew, Mr. Roberts, Miss Shipley. I believe you have never met before."