“Such lives as that one can understand; but how can I ever believe that Deacon Cole’s life is molded by the same influence, or, indeed, that mine can be?  Must I be a Deacon Cole Christian if I am one at all?”

The afternoon clouded over, and a mincing little rain began to fall.  Marion stood in the tent door and grumbled over it.

“I wanted to hear that Mr. Hazard,” she said; “I rather fancy his face, and I fancy the name of his subject.  I had a curiosity to see what he would do with it, and here is this rain to hinder.”

Ruth and Flossy had come over for the day, and were waiting in the tent.

“Haven’t you been at Chautauqua long enough to catch one of its cardinal rules, never to stay at home for rain?” Flossy said.

Marion looked around at her.  She was putting on her rubbers.

“Are you really going?” She asked the question in great surprise.  “Why, Flossy, it is going to rain hard!”

“What of it?” said Flossy, lightly.  “I have waterproof, and rubbers, and umbrella, and if it gets to be too wet I can run to a tent.”

“If you were at home you wouldn’t think of going to church.  Why, Flossy Shipley, I never knew you to go out in the rain!  I thought you were always afraid you would spoil your clothes.”

“That was because I had none already spoiled to wear,” Flossy answered, cheerily; “but that difficulty is obviated; I have spoiled two dresses since I have been here.  This one now is indifferent to the rain, and will be for the future.  I have an improvement on that plan, though; I mean to have a rainy-day dress as soon as I get home.  Come, it is time we were off.”

“I believe I am a dunce,” Marion said, slowly.  “I think it is going to rain hard; but as I have to go, at home, whether it rains or shines, I suppose I can do it here.  But if this were a congregation of respectable city Christians, instead of a set of lunatics, there wouldn’t be a dozen out.”

They found hundreds out, however.  Indeed, it proved to be difficult to secure seats.  That address was heard under difficulties.  In the first place it would rain; not an out-and-out hearty shower, that would at once set at rest the attempt to hold an out-door meeting, but an exasperating little drizzle, enlivened occasionally by a few smart drops that seemed to hint business.  There was a constant putting up of umbrellas and putting them down again.  There was a constant fidgeting about, and getting up and sitting down again, to let some of the more nervous ones who had resolved upon a decided rain escape to safer quarters.  Half of the people had their heads twisted around to get a peep at the sky, to see what the clouds really did mean, anyway.

Our girls had one of the uncomfortable posts.  Arrived late, they had to take what they could get, and it was some distance from the speaker, and their sight and sound were so marred by the constant changes and the whirl of umbrellas that Marion presently lost all patience and gave up the attempt to listen.  She would have deserted altogether but for the look of eager attention on Flossy’s face.  Despite the annoyances, she was evidently hearing and enjoying.  It seemed a pity to disturb her and suggest a return to the tent; besides, Marion felt half ashamed to do so.