"Yes! it is all fate!" exclaimed Quimby vehemently. "We cannot help ourselves!"
"You believe in fate then? I don't think I do!" said Cyn, with a glance half-humorous, half-pitying, at its victim on the log; "what incentive would we have to any effort, if we were sure everything was marked out for us in advance?"
"That is a question requiring too much effort for us to discuss on a warm day," said Nattie.
"Certain circumstances must bring about certain results, you will acknowledge," Clem gravely remarked.
"But, it is said that every soul that is born has a twin somewhere; and if so, that must be fate!" said Mrs. Simonson.
"Miss Kling's theory, I believe!" laughed Nattie.
"If it is so, the right ones don't often come together," said Quimby gloomily.
"We are an exception, then, to the general rule!" simpered Celeste.
Quimby groaned, and then murmured something about the toothache.
"Poor fellow!" said Cyn, in a low voice, to Nattie.
"After all, there is something in fate," Nattie sighed.
