As they walked, the evening wind brought to them the notes of the last
song which the throng at the stand were singing. A clear, ringing, yet
tender farewell. It floated sweetly down to them, growing fainter and
fainter as the distance lengthened, until, as they stepped on board the
boat, they lost its sound. There were many people going the same way,
but there was little talking. There are times when people, though they
may be very far from unhappiness, have no desire to talk. Once on deck,
Marion turned and clasped both of Eurie's hands.

"I have had such a blessed surprise to-night!" she said, with glowing
face. "I did not think of such a thing! O Eurie, why didn't you tell
me?"

"You cannot begin to be as surprised as I am," Eurie said. "I thought
you were miles away from such a thing. Why didn't you tell _me_?"

Ruth and Flossy were leaning over, watching the play of the water
against the boat's side.

"What about those two?" Eurie said, nodding her head toward them.

Marion sighed.

"Ruth is very far from understanding anything about it," she said; "at
least the last time I talked with her she knew as little about the
Christian life as the veriest heathen so far at least as personal duty
was concerned."

"When was that?"