To her dismay, her seat was directly beneath one of them. She glanced upward uneasily. There was no contrivance to catch the drippings, and everybody must know that candles dripped. She looked down at her new blue dress; it would be impossible to get candle grease out of it. She meant to speak to the girl in the white dress; then she saw that Mabel Thorn was coming down the aisle. She took the next seat.
"Are you not afraid of the candles?" whispered Sarah.
"What candles?"
"Those, up there. They will drip on us."
Mabel tilted her head and looked up. Then she grinned.
"Did you never hear of gas?" she asked.
"Stove gas," answered Sarah. "Our stove makes it when the wind is not right."
"You never heard of illuminating gas?"
Sarah shook her head. "Never."
"Where do you come from?"