"Will you be so kind as to have the doors of the parlors leading into the hall closed, as if accidentally, when we pass out?" Adding, "I think if Mr. Byram can get Mr. Brently to his room now, it would also be well." Mrs. Byram commenced many professions of regret, but Lottie merely said, "I cannot think about it now. I can only act," and she hastened away to prepare for the drive home. A moment later De Forrest was steadied through the hall and helped into the sleigh. "Shall I sit by him?" asked Harcourt. "No," said Lottie, in the same decided voice. "I will take care of him. I was the cause of his trouble, and will not leave him till he is safely home. You will greatly oblige me if you will remain with Addie and Bel, and disarm their suspicion and that of others. Mr. Hemstead will accompany me, and we will send the sleigh back immediately." "Miss Marsden," said Harcourt, "you are a noble hearted girl. I will do whatever you wish." "Thank you for what you have done. That is all." "The horses are restless; I will sit with the coachman," said Hemstead, surmising that Lottie would desire all the seclusion possible under the circumstances. He was not mistaken, for as Harcourt retired she said in a low tone, "You are right. I should be glad to escape now even from your eyes, that are friendly, I trust." "Yes," he replied, with an emphasis that did her good,--"most friendly"; and they drove away through the cold white moonlight and colder and whiter snow; and to Lottie, with her burdened conscience and heavy heart, the calm night seemed more than ever like a face regarding her with cold and silent scorn. CHAPTER XVII. MIDNIGHT VIGILS. There were indeed four strangely assorted characters in that sleigh as they were carried beyond the sounds of music and gayety, which, to Hemstead and Lottie Marsden at least, were little less than mockery. There was the stolid coachman, who, whatever were his thoughts, had been trained to appear oblivious of everything save his duty, and to be but an animate part of the "establishment." He was much like the horses he drove, living his narrow, material life in the passing hour, knowing little and caring less about the past or the future.