“Brocton is here,” Eurie said, as they climbed the steps of the car.  “I see the name on that building yonder; though whether ‘here’ is America or Asia I am unable to say.  I think we have come overland, but it is so long since we started I may have forgotten.”

But at this point they checked their nonsense and began to get up a new interest in existence.  They were among a different class of people—­earnest, eager people, who seemed to have no thought of yawns or weariness.  Camp-stools abounded, with here and there a bundle looking like quilts and pillows.  Every lady had a waterproof and every man an umbrella, and the talk was of “tents,” and “division meetings,” and “the morning boats,” with stray words like “Fairpoint” and “Mayville” coming in every now and then.  These two words, the girls knew had to do with their hopes; so they began to feel revived.

“I actually begin to think there is some foundation for Eurie’s wild fancies after all,” Marion whispered, “or else this is another party of lunatics as wild as ourselves; but they are a large and respectable party; I’m rather hopeful.”

In two minutes more the railroad official who speaks in the unknown tongue yelped something at either door, and thereupon everybody got up and began to prepare for an exit.

“Do you think he said Mayville?” questioned Eurie with a shade of anxiety in her voice.  She had been the leader of this scheme, and she felt just a trifle of responsibility.

“Haven’t the least idea,” Marion said, composedly gathering her wrappings; “it sounded as much like any other word you happen to think of as it did like that, but everybody is going, and Flossy and I are determined to be in the fashion so we go too.”

At the door dismay seized upon Flossy.  A light drizzly rain was falling.  Oh, the lavender suit! and her waterproof tucked away in her trunk, and everybody pushing and trying to pass her.

“Never mind,” Marion said, with utmost good nature, “here is mine; I haven’t any trunk, so it is handy; and it has rained on my old alpaca for ages; can’t hurt that, so wrap yourself up and come along, for I believe in my heart that this is Mayville.”

“This way to the Mayville House,” said the gentlemanly official, touching his hat as politely as though they had been princesses.  Why can’t hotel subordinates more often show a little common politeness?  This act decided the location of these four girls in a twinkling; they knew nothing about any of the hotels, and, other things being equal, anybody would rather go to a place to which they had been decently invited than to be elbowed and yelled at and forced.  Water and rest and tea did much to restore them to comfort, and as they discussed matters in their rooms afterward they assured each other that the Mayville House was just the place to stop at.  A discussion was in progress as to the evening meeting.  Miss Erskine had taken down her hair and donned a becoming wrapper, and reposed serenely in the rocking-chair, offering no remark beyond the composed and decided, “I am not going over in the woods to-night by any manner of means; that would be enough if I were actually one of the lunatics instead of a mild looker-on.”