"I know it," said Florence, "but I think I had better change my gown now."
"You look well enough as you are," Marion replied, casting her eyes critically over her friend's attire. "Put on your gold-braided jacket and you will look as smart as any girl there."
"Very well, then I shall go as I am. I would much rather talk than bother about dressing." Saying this Florence approached Marion and sat down beside her on the window seat. Marion did not notice her, but continued to look thoughtfully out of the window. Florence watched her for a moment, as though trying to read the thoughts behind her restless eyes; then she gently took both her friend's hands, and holding them in her own said inquiringly: "What is troubling you, dear."
"Nothing," Marion sighed.
"Then why do you seem so far away?"
"Because I was thinking."
"Of what?" asked Florence.
"Of how like a human life the waters of that lake are."
"I don't understand," said her friend.
"Why, like a life they roll waywardly on until they pass to mother earth again, or are borne upward to the clouds. Sometimes they lie peacefully at rest, or they ripple merrily like children at play, only to be rudely awakened and lashed to angry fury in an aimless struggle with the winds. Like a life they are merely the agents of some greater power, helplessly following their destiny."