"What does that prove, my beloved Eureka?" Marion said, quickly. "'If thy right hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee,' is another Bible verse. These verses of Flossy's mean something, surely. What do they mean, is the question left for us to decide? After all, Ruth, I agree with you; it is a question that must be left to our judgment and common sense; only we are bound to strengthen our common sense and confirm our judgments in the light of the lamp that is promised as a guide to our feet."
Almost nothing was said among them after that, except the commonplaces of good-nights. The next afternoon, as Marion was working out a refractory example in algebra for Gracie Dennis, she bent lower over her slate, and said:
"Miss Wilbur, did you know that your friends, Miss Erskine, Miss Shipley and Miss Mitchell, had all declined Mrs. Garland's invitation, and sent her an informal little note signed by them all, to the effect that they had decided not to dance any more?"
"No," said Marion, the rich blood mounting to her temples, and her face breaking into a smile. "How did you hear?"
"Mrs. Garland told my father; she said she honored them for their consistency, and thought more highly of their new departure than she ever had before. It is rather remarkable so early in their Christian life, don't you think?"
"Rather," Marion said, with a smile, and she followed it by a soft little sigh. She had not been invited to Mrs. Garland's. There was no opportunity for her to show whether she was consistent or not.
