Betty grasped the table with a tight clinch and faced Mrs. Catt with a face as white as death. "You don't mean that you would talk against us?" she gasped. Dr. McLeod hastily crossed the platform and took Betty's arm. "Come, Miss Emmit, this is no time nor place for personalities. See! the congregation is wondering now. Don't abuse the privilege I am giving you." And he led her to her seat beside Edith. Edith anxiously questioned her, but received only a silent shake of the head. The meeting began, Betty stared fixedly at Mrs. Catt, who never once looked her way. It seemed all like a horrible dream to poor Betty. After singing a few good, old hymns, the audience settled down comfortably to listen to this wonderful lecturer, who was known to not only interest, by her wonderful morbid experience, but who had the genius to make whole audiences weep with her depiction of scenes in "Mormon" life. Mrs. Webster Catt arose and then began her thirty minutes talk on "Conditions in Utah." She depicted many evils in that awful Godless area of America, but, most of all, she dwelt on the awful depravity of the women and girls, and beseeched the women to send money to the missionaries to alleviate, if possible, their slavedom and misery. As Betty listened, her blood seemed to freeze. Dell noticed her eyes blazing indignation at the speaker, and she whispered, "Betty, didn't you expect it? I did. Don't get so fussed. Your turn will come." But Dell didn't know the cyclone that was raging in Betty's heart. Here was her ideal Easterner, found at last a traitor to Ephraim and all she held dear! Mrs. Catt proceeded boldly. She told of her trip to Ephraim, the sin that she had found there, and the awful conditions of the wives and mothers and daughters. Betty could stand it no longer. Rising from her seat, she approached the lecturer. "How dare you tell these lies? My mother housed you and helped you--for what? To have you come East and lie about us. Shame! Shame on you! How can you be so wicked!" There was a murmur of disapproval throughout the audience. A man arose importantly. "As a member of this congregation, I would kindly ask that this girl leave the church. She has disturbed a public meeting!" Dr. McLeod arose quietly. "This is most unfortunate. Miss Emmit. You have embarrassed your friends, who would have been fair to you." Edith quietly left her seat and approached Betty. Dell followed. "Come," said Edith, lovingly putting her arm about Betty's trembling form, and leading her out before the astonished audience. "Edith Esterbrook! What next will she do?" thought each one, with a feeling of tolerance or scorn, according to their like and dislike of this strange girl, so socially well-known. ***** "I think, Betty, you'll have to apologize to Dr. McLeod," said President Gladder kindly. "But should I sit and hear my dear Ephraim spoken so vilely of, and never say a word?" asked Betty surprised.