Next her voice grows haughty, and she says, coldly, "Stop!" for Ollie is about to put his arm around her fairy waist. A second after, however, she laughs again and says: "What nonsense! Good-night, Mr. Oliver," and sweeps past him into her room, where, closing the door, Miss Changeable suddenly cries: "If he had dared!" then mutters: "A few days ago I looked upon his suit complacently and indifferently;" next pants: "Now what is the matter with me? What kind of a railroad journey is it that makes a girl--" and, checking herself here, cries: "Pshaw! what nonsense!" and so goes to bed in the City of the Saints. CHAPTER IX. THE BALL IN SALT LAKE. The next morning sleep leaves Erma, driven away by the singing of the birds in the trees that front the hotel. A little time after, church bells come to her ears, and she is astonished, and then remembers that it is Sunday, and that there is a little Episcopal church on First South Street that has come there with the railroad, and is permitted to exist because United States troops are at Camp Douglas, just in the shadow of the mountains, over which the sun is rising, and whose snowtops look very cool and very pleasant here in the warmer valley, five thousand feet below them. Coming down stairs to a nine o'clock breakfast, she encounters Ferdie and Louise at the table, for Mrs. Livingston and Oliver are later risers. Over the meal, Mr. Chauncey, who has not been to the theatre with them, but has been investigating the city, points out some of the notables who are seated about the dining-room. Then he begins to run on about what he has seen the evening before, telling them he has joined the Salt Lake Billiard Club and paid twenty-five cents initiation fee to register his name as a member of the club, in order to wield a cue, which registry is kept by pasting a few sheets of paper each day upon a roller, and has gradually rolled up until it has a diameter of five feet, and contains the names of every man who has ever played a game of billiards in Salt Lake City from the time Orson Pratt first spied out the valley; for the Mormon authorities have refused to license billiard tables, and a club was the only way in which they could be circumvented. Next the boy excitedly tells them that he has been introduced to a Mormon bishop in a barroom. At which Miss Livingston laughs: "He couldn't have been much of a bishop to have been there." "Wasn't he!" rejoins Ferdie indignantly. "He has four wives, two pairs of sisters." At which Louise gives an affrighted, "Oh!" and Miss Travenion says sternly, "No more Mormon stories, please," for Mr. Chauncey is about to run on about an apostle of the church who had married a mother and two daughters. But now the party are joined by Mrs. Livingston and Oliver, and shortly after, the meal being finished, Mr. Livingston proposes church.