"No danger of getting lost, at any rate," declared Miss Whitcom, "since the church advertises so efficiently!"
There promised to be a rather pained silence; but Mrs. Needham rose, smoothed down the front of her skirt, and announced that she must go and dress for dinner.
"Ah, yes," lamented her sister cheerfully, "one must dress, even in the wilderness."
"Oh, we don't really make anything of it, Marjie. Only it sort of rests you—to make a change."
"Dress! Isn't it absurd? Yet how we dote on it! In this respect we aren't, after all, civilized to any dangerous degree. Why, in Tahulamaji—"
"Marjie, there isn't a bit of use of your changing. You look lovely."
"Thanks," replied her sister. "Still, one must."
"We all do just as we please up here in the woods, you know."
"Ah, but the men, the men," whispered Miss Whitcom with delicious vulgarity behind her hand. "And after all, we must have some regard for the conventions." Her tone was just a little pointed.