Thus she irritably chafed through the long hours. She would not go downstairs as she wished to, because she had resolved that she would not. But she half purposed to try and bring about the visit to Mrs. Dlimm in the afternoon, if possible, and would now go willingly, if asked. At the first welcome sound of the dinner-bell she sped downstairs, and glanced into the parlor, hoping that he might be there, and that in some way she might still bring about the ride. But she found only De Forrest yawning over a newspaper, and had to endure his sentimental reproaches that she had absented herself so long from him. "Come to dinner," was her only and rather prosaic response. But De Forrest went cheerfully, for dinner was something that he could enjoy under any circumstances. To Lottie's disappointment, Mr. Dimmerly mumbled grace, and still Hemstead did not appear. For some reason she did not like to ask where he was, and was provoked at herself because of her hesitancy. The others, who knew of his departure, supposed she was aware of it also. At last her curiosity gained the mastery, and she asked her aunt with an indifference, not so well assumed but that her color heightened a little, "Where is Mr. Hemstead?" "He went down to the city," replied Mrs. Marchmont, carelessly. The impulsive girl's face showed her disappointment and vexation, but she saw that quick-eyed Bel was watching her. She wished her friend back in New York; and, with partial success, sought to appear as usual. "O dear!" she thought; "what shall I do with myself this afternoon? I can't endure Julian's mooning. I wish Mr. Harcourt was here, so we could get up some excitement." Without excitement Lottie was as dull and wretched as all victims of stimulants, left to their own resources. But the fates were against her. Harcourt would not be back till evening, and she did not know when Hemstead would return. Addie and Bel vanished after dinner, and De Forrest offered to read to her. She assented, having no better prospect. She ensconced herself luxuriously under an afghan upon the sofa, while the persistent lover, feeling that this would be his favored opportunity, determined to lay close siege to her heart, and win a definite promise, if possible. For this purpose he chose a romantic poem, which, at a certain point, had a very tender and love-infused character. Here he purposed to throw down the book in a melodramatic manner, and pass from the abstract to reality, and from the third person to the first. He was more familiar with stage effects than anything else, and had planned a pretty little scene. As Lottie reclined upon the sofa, he could very nicely and comfortably kneel, take her hand, and gracefully explain the condition of his heart; and she was certainly in a comfortable position to hear.