Even Lottie, in her highly-wrought state, was not proof against such bald prose as this; and she turned and hastened to her room. Bel followed, proposing now, at last, to open Lottie's eyes to her folly. Her first words of wisdom were, as Lottie, with wet eyes, stood binding up her hair, "What a fool you are beginning to make of yourself over this Western student!" "Hush!" said Lottie, imperiously. "There it is again. You haven't been yourself since he came. If your mother knew what was going on--" "Bel," said Lottie, in a tone that quite startled that nervous young lady, "do you value my friendship at all?" "Certainly; and that is why I wish to prevent you from drifting into trouble: and it's not right for you to get him into--" Lottie's warning gesture was so emphatic that Bel paused. "Has it ever occurred to you," Lottie continued, in a tone that Bel had never heard her use before, "that I am not a child, and that you are not my natural guardian? Not another word, please, about Mr. Hemstead, or we are strangers;" and she quietly finished her toilet and left the room. She had hardly reached the lower hall before there was a furious ring at the door. Before it could be Opened Mr. Harcourt burst in, and called, "Where is Mr. Hemstead?" At the first sound of his voice Addie rushed out and clung to his arm, crying hysterically, "What is the matter?" He drew back, with an impatience akin to disgust, and repeated his question: "Where is Mr. Hemstead? Why don't some one speak?" "Mr. Harcourt," said Mrs. Marchmont, in offended dignity, "I think you might, at least, have answered Addie's question and told us what the trouble is." "Trouble enough, God knows. Mr. and Miss Martell have been caught in the ice, out in an open boat, for hours. Do you see that light there? Good heavens! there is another light shooting out toward it--" "Yes," cried Lottie, in a sudden ecstasy of delight; "there goes my brave, true knight to the rescue, and he will save them, too; see how he gains upon them. That is Mr. Hemstead's voice. I know it well. He is shouting encouragement to them. Hear the feeble answering cry." "That's a woman's voice," Harcourt cried, after listening a moment as if his life depended on what he heard. "Thank God, she has not perished with cold"; and he dashed away toward the river bank. Addie and her mother looked at each other. They too, like the coachman, had been struck with Mr. Harcourt's choice of pronouns. But the prudent lady did not forget herself or her duty a moment. She made them all come in from the bleak piazza, and had the light turned down in the parlor, so that they could see through the window just as well,--a more comfortable point of observation. But De Forrest quite ostentatiously muffled himself up to his eyes, that he might go down and "help." Approaching timidly, he said to Lottie as she stood at the window, "Can you not take another knight into your service this evening?"