Marion carefully erased a word that seemed to her fastidious taste too inexpressive before she answered:
"I don't own such an article as a Bible, my child; so your suspicions are entirely unfounded. My early education was not defective in that respect, however, and I confess that I find many verses that seem to very aptly describe the ways of sinful mortals like yourself."
Eurie raised herself on one elbow, regardless of headache and the cloth wet in vinegar that straightway fell off.
"You don't own a Bible!" she said, in utter surprise, and with a touch of actual dismay in her voice.
"I am depraved to that degree, my dear little saint. I conclude that you are more devoutly inclined, and have one of your own. Pray how many chapters a day do you read in it?"
Eurie lay down again, and Flossy came with the vinegar cloth and bound it securely on her forehead.
"I don't read in it very often, to be sure," Eurie murmured. "In fact I suppose I may as well say that I never do. But then I own one, and always have. I am not a heathen; and really and truly it seems almost queer not to have a Bible of one's own. It is a sort of mark of civilization, you know."
Marion laughed good-naturedly.
"I never make a great deal of pretense in that line," she said, gayly. "As for being a heathen, that is only a relative term. According to Dr. Calkins, they were more or less in advance of us. I am one of the 'advanced' sort. Ruth, your toilet ought to be nearly completed; I hear that indefatigable bell."
"You are very foolish not to go this morning and let your writing wait. We shall be certain to have something worth listening to; it is a strange time to select for absence." This was Ruth's quiet answer, as she pinned her lace ruffle with a gleaming little diamond.