Four Girls at Chautauqua | Page 4

on, whether they could afford three new
dresses apiece or none at all. The fact being that it depended on the
amount of sickness there was in Dr. Mitchell's beat whether there were
to be luxuries or simple bare necessities, with some wonderment as to
how even those were to be paid.
Eurie was the most light-hearted and indifferent of this free-and-easy
family, who always had roast turkey when it was to be had, and who
could laugh and chat merrily over warmed-up meat and johnny-cake, or
even no meat at all, when such days came. How she ever came to think
that she could go to Chautauqua was a matter of surprise to herself; but
it happened to have been a sickly summer among the wealthy people,
and large bills had come in--the next thing was to spend them.
Chautauqua was a silly place to do it in, to be sure; that was Dr.
Mitchell's idea, and the family laughed together over Eurie's last wild
notion; but for all that they good-naturedly prepared to let her carry it
out. Just how full of fun and mischief and actual wildness Eurie was, a
two-weeks sojourn at Chautauqua will be likely to develop; for before
that conversation at Marion's was concluded they decided that they
were really going. Why Marion went, puzzled the girls very much,
puzzled herself somewhat. She was her own mistress, had neither father
to direct nor sister to consult. She had an uncle and aunt who lived
where she called "home," and with whom she spent her vacations, but
they were the poorest of hard-working country people, who stood in
awe of Marion and her education, and by no means ventured to
interfere with her plans. Marion was as independent in her way as Ruth
was in hers, but they were very different ways. Ruth, for instance,
indulged her independence in the matter of dress, by spending a small
fortune in looking elegantly unlike everybody else, and straightway
created a frantic desire in her set to look as nearly like her as possible.
But no one cared to look like Marion, in her severely plain black or
brown suits, with almost and sometimes quite no trimmings at all on

them. It was agreed that she looked remarkably well, but so unlike any
one else they didn't see how she could bring herself to dressing so. She
laughed when this was hinted to her, and got what comfort she could
out of the fact that she was considered "odd." In a certain way she ruled
them all, Ruth Erskine included, though that young lady never
suspected it. The queerest one of this company was little Flossy
Shipley--queer to be found in just such company, I mean. She was the
petted darling of a wealthy home, a younger daughter, a baby in their
eyes, to be loved and cherished, and allowed to have her own sweet and
precious way even when it included such a strange proceeding as a two
weeks in the woods, all because that strange girl in the ward school that
Flossy had taken such an unaccountable fancy for was going. This
family were First Church people, too, and capable of buying a seat very
near the centre, in fact but a few removes from the Erskine pew, which
was, of course, the wealthy one of the church. The Shipley pew was
rarely honored by all the members of the family, and indeed the pastor
had no special cause for alarm if several Sundays went by without an
appearance from one of them. A variety of trifles might happen to
cause such a state of things, from which you will infer that they were
not a church-going family. Another strange representative for
Chautauqua!
Now how did those four girls come to be friends? Oh, dreadful! You
don't expect me to be able to account for human friendships I hope,
especially for school-girl friendships? There is no known rule that will
apply to such idiosyncracies. They had been in school together, oven
Marion Wilbur, with the indomitable energy which characterized her,
had managed one term of Madame La Fonte's enormous bills, and with
the close of the term found herself strangely enough drawn into this
strange medley of character that moved in such different circles, and
yet called themselves friends. You are to understand that though the
same church received these girls on Sunday, yet the actual circle in
which their lives whirled was as unlike as possible. The Erskines were
the cream, cultured, traveled, wealthy, aristocratic as to blood and as to
manners, literary in the sense that they bought rare books, and knew
why they were rare. The Mitchells had a calling acquaintance with their
family because Dr. Mitchell was their chosen physician, but that came

to