"O, well," said Mrs. Marchmont, in some confusion, "we can't expect to be like Him. Then what is appropriate in one place and age is not in another." "No, indeed, Mr. Hemstead," said Lottie, with twinkling eyes. "I'd have you to understand that the religion appropriate to our place and age is one that pleases us." "I didn't say that, Lottie," said Mrs. Marchmont, with some irritation. "Very true, auntie, but I did! and, as far as I can judge, it's true in New York, whatever may be the case in the country. But come, we've had supper, and have kept you and uncle up too late already. Kiss your saucy niece good night; perhaps I'll be better one of these days." "If kissing will make you better, come here to me," said Mr. Dimmerly. "I wouldn't mind doing a little missionary work of that kind." "No, indeed," laughed Harcourt; "we'll all turn missionaries on those terms." "Yes," said De Forrest, "I'll promise to be a devoted missionary all my life." "There, I said that you would have a religion you liked," retorted Lottie, pirouetting to the dining-room door. "But I'm too far gone for any such mild remedies. There's Bel, she's trying to be good. You may all kiss her"; and, with a look at Hemstead he did not understand, she vanished. CHAPTER XIII. A LOVER QUENCHED. Bel followed her friend to their room, full of irritable reproaches. But Lottie puzzled her again, as she had done before that day. Gayety vanished from the face as light from a clouded landscape, and with an expression that was even scowling and sullen she sat brooding before the fire, heeding Bel's complaining words no more than she would the patter of rain against the window. Then Bel changed the tune; retaining the same minor key, however. "I suppose now that you will give up your shameful plot against Mr. Hemstead, as a matter of course." "I don't know what I'll do," snapped Lottie. "Don't know what you'll do! Why, he about the same as saved our lives this evening." "He saved his own at the same time." "Well," said Bel, exasperatingly, "I wish Mr. Hemstead and all who heard the fine speeches about your 'kind, generous heart' could hear you now." "I wish they could," said Lottie, recklessly. "They couldn't have a worse opinion of me than I have of myself." "But what do you intend to do about Mr. Hemstead." "I don't intend to do anything about him. I half wish I had never seen him." "That you can trifle with him after what has happened to-night is something that I did not think, even of you, Lottie Marsden." "I haven't said I was going to 'trifle with him.' He's a man you can't trifle with. The best thing I can do is to let him alone." "That is just what I think." "Very well then, go to sleep and be quiet." "How long are you going to sit 'mooning' there?" "Till morning, if I wish. Don't bother me." "After coming so near having your neck broken, you ought to be in a better frame of mind."