He does not tell him this, however, on meeting, but says affably, "How de, Mr. Chauncey? I think I can furnish a leettle amusement for you and your party." "As you did last night, dancing the double shuffle?" laughs Ferdie, who is not particularly in love with Lot. "No, I kin do better than that. Your party are out here studying the manners and customs of us natives, I take it. Now, if you will bring your crowd up to the Twenty-fifth Ward meeting to-night, you'll see a Mormon Sunday-school celebration. Please tell Miss Ermie that I will see her thar; I ain't forgot my promise, and her dad's to be in town to-night." "I'm delighted to hear that! Miss Travenion has been looking anxiously for her father," replies Ferdinand. "I will give her your message, and if you will promise to cut a pigeon wing, I'll come up myself," and with this leaves the genial Lot, who, cursing his impertinence under his breath, mumbles, "Some day, my jumping-jack, your wit may cost you the leettle brains you've got." After Lawrence has left her, Miss Travenion goes back to her room blushingly happy, and says complacently, "Papa will fix everything. Lawrence will win his mine,--and then--" and her blue eyes seem to look quite confidently into the future, for she has supreme faith in her father. Every time he had come to New York on his various visits, he had brought happiness to her; she remembers the joy of his arrival, the little _fetes_ prepared for her as a school girl, and the magnificent presents lavished upon her from Tiffany's and Kirkpatrick's when she was old enough for such things, and thinking of her absent dear one, she grows anxious as to Mr. Kruger's promise, sending to the office several times to ask if any one has called upon her, or asked for her, but the answer always comes back, "No!" Then she takes to reading Ralph Travenion's last letter to her, a thing she has done a dozen times during the past few days, and while occupied in this, there is a knock on the door, and springing up and tripping lightly to it, she opens it, crying, "Papa! at last!" but is disappointed, for it is only Ferdie's laughing face. He says to her, "I have not brought your father, but Mr. Kruger wants to see you." "Indeed? Is he down-stairs?" asks Erma eagerly. "No, but he gave me a message for you. He has invited us all to go up and see a little Mormon Sunday-school festival." "What has the Mormon Sunday-school performance to do with me?" "Oh, nothing; but I thought it would be fun, and Mr. Kruger--Bishop Kruger, I beg his pardon--told me to tell you that he would be there and had not forgotten his promise. Your father will be in town to-night." "God bless you for the news!" cries the girl, then laughs, "Do you know, I was really becoming anxious. Bishop Kruger has something to tell to me. Thanks for your invitation. I'll go. At what time?" "About eight o'clock," answers Mr. Chauncey.