sort from Ruth, and as she lay down on her prayerless pillow she said to
herself, "If she had only knelt down I should certainly have done so,
too; and perhaps I might have been helped out of this dreadful feeling."
Yet so ignorant was she of the way that it never once occurred to her to
kneel alone and pray.

No more words were spoken by those two girls that night, but each lay
awake for a long time and tossed about restlessly. Ruth had been most
effectually disturbed, and try as best she could it was impossible to
banish the memory of those quiet words: "You might _have_ to die
to-night; people do, you know." To actually _have_ to do something that
she had not planned to do and was not quite ready for, would be a new
experience to this girl. Yet when would she be ready to plan for dying?
At last she grew thoroughly vexed, and vented her disgust on the
"religionists" who got up camp-meeting excitements for the purpose of
turning weak brains like Flossy Shipley's. After that she went to sleep.

"Flossy Shipley, for pity's sake _don't_ rig your self up in that awful
cashmere! It rains yet and you will just be going around with five
wrinkles on your forehead all day, besides spoiling your dress."

It was morning, and the door of communication between the two
sleeping-rooms being thrown open the four girls were in full tide of
talk and preparation for Fairpoint. Flossy, though kept her strangely
quiet face and manner; the night had not brought her peace; she had
tossed restlessly for hours, and when at last she slept it was only to
be haunted with troubled dreams. With the first breath of morning she
opened her eyes and felt that the weight of yesterday was still pressing
on her heart.