All the girls looked at each other in astonished silence; such a strange thing for Flossy to say.

“What of it?” said Marion, presently.  “What if it has? or, rather, what if it were never in the world?”

“It wasn’t that side of it that I thought about.  It was what if it were.”

“And what then?”

“Why, then, I should like to see the person who had it, just to see how he would seem.”

Marion laughed somewhat scornfully.

“Curiosity is at the bottom of your wise thought, is it?  Well, my little mousie, I am amazingly afraid you are destined never to discover how it will seem.  So I wouldn’t puzzle my brains about it.  It might be too much for them.  Shall we go to dinner?”

You should have seen our four young ladies taking their first meal at Chautauqua!  It was an experience not to be forgotten.  They went to the “hotel.”  This was a long board building, improvised for the occasion, and filled with as many comforts as the necessities of the occasion could furnish.  To Miss Erskine the word “hotel” had only one sort of association.  She had been a traveler in her own country only, and it had been her fortune to be intimate only with the hotels in large cities, and only with those where people go whose purses are full to overflowing.  So she had come to associate with the name all that was elegant or refined or luxurious.

When the President of the grounds inquired whether they would Lave tickets for the hotel or one of the boarding-houses, Miss Erskine had answered without hesitation: 

“For the hotel, of course.  I never have anything to do with boarding-houses.  They are almost certain to be second rate.”

Said President kept his own counsel, thinking, I fancy, that here was a girl who needed some lessons in the practical things of this life, and Chautauqua hotels were good places in which to take lessons.

Imagine now, if you can, the look of this lady’s face, as they made their way with much difficulty down the long room, and looked about them on either side for heats.

“A hotel, indeed!” she said, in utter contempt and disgust, as one of the attendants signaled them and politely drew back the long board seat that did duty in the place of chairs, and answered for five, or, if you were good natured and crowded, for six people.  He was just as polite in his attentions as if the unplaned seat had been a carved chair of graceful shape and pattern.  One would suppose that Ruth might have taken a hint from his example.  But the truth is, she belonged to that class of people who are so accustomed to polite attentions that it is only their absence which calls forth remark.

“The idea of naming this horrid, dirty old lumber-room a hotel!” and she carefully and disdainfully spread her waterproof cloak on the seat before she took it.

Eurie’s merry laugh rang out until others looked and smiled in sympathy with her fun, whatever it was.