also her misfortune rather than her taste that the colors were too
light to be really according to the mode. Her gloves were of an entirely
different shade from the rest of the attire, and were mended with a
shade of silk that did not quite match Altogether, Eurie's dress did not
suit Miss Erskine. But, for that matter, neither did it suit herself,
with this difference, that it was, after all, a matter of minor
importance to her.

Miss Wilbur's dress can be disposed of in a single sentence: It was a
black alpaca skirt, not too long, and severely plain, covered to within
three inches with a plain brown linen polonaise; her black hat with a
band of velvet about it, fastened by a single heavy knot, and her
somewhat worn black gloves completed her toilet, and she looked every
inch a lady. The very people who would have curled their aristocratic
lips at Eurie's attempt at style, turned and gave Miss Wilbur a second
thoughtful respectful look.

There was a Mr. Wayne who deserves attention. He possessed himself of
Miss Erskine's fan, and played with it carelessly, while he said:

"You are a queer set. What are you all going off there for, to bury
yourselves in the woods? I don't believe one of you has an idea what you
are about. And it is the very height of the season, too."

"That is the trouble," Miss Erskine said, with a little toss of her
handsome head. "We are sick of the season, and want to get away from it.
I want something new. That is precisely what I am going for."

"I have no doubt you will find it," and the gentleman gave a disdainful
shrug to his shoulders. "Out in the backwoods attending a hallelujah