They soon reached Mrs. Byram's elegant country which gleamed afar, ablaze with light. The obsequious footman threw open the door, and they entered a tropical atmosphere laden with the perfumes of exotics. Already the music was striking up for the chief feature of the evening. Bel reluctantly accepted of Hemstead's escort, as sh; had no other resource.

"He will be so awkward!" she had said to Lottie, in irritable protest.

And at first she was quite right, for Hemstead found himself anything but at home in the fashionable revel. Bel, in her efforts to get him into the presence of the lady of the house, that they might pay their respects, reminded one of a little steam yacht trying to manage a ship of the line.

Not only were Lottie and De Forrest smiling at the scene, but also other elegant people, among whom Hemstead towered in proportions too vast and ill-managed to escape notice; and to Addie her cousin's lack of ease and grace was worse than a crime.

Bel soon found some city acquaintances, and she and her escort parted with mutual relief. Hemstead drifted into the hall, where he would be out of the way of the dancers, but through the open doors could watch the scene.

And this he did with a curious and observant eye. The party he came with expected him to be either dazzled and quite carried away by the scenes of the evening, or else shocked and very solemn over their dissipation. But he was rather inclined to be philosophical, and to study this new phase of life. He would see the creme de la creme, who only would be present, as he was given to understand. He would discover if they were made of different clay from the people of Scrub Oaks. He would breathe the social atmosphere which to Addie, to his aunt, and even to Lottie, he was compelled to fear was as the breath of life. These were the side issues; but his chief purpose was to study Lottie herself. He would discover if she were in truth as good a girl—as full of promise—as he had been led to believe at first.

Of course he was a predestined "wall-flower" upon such an occasion. Addie had said to Mrs. Byram, in a tone hard to describe but at once understood, "A cousin from the West, who is studying for the ministry"; and Hemstead was immediately classed in the lady's mind among those poor relations who must be tolerated for the sake of their connections.

He was a stranger to all, save those he came with, and they soon completely ignored and forgot him, except Lottie, by whom he was watched, but so furtively that she seemed as neglectful as the rest.

It was one of the fashions of the hour—a phase of etiquette as ill-bred as the poorest social slang—not to introduce strangers. Mrs. Byram and her daughters were nothing if not fashionable, and in this case the mode served their inclination, and beyond a few formal words they willingly left their awkward guest to his own resources.

He could not understand how true courtesy permitted a hostess to neglect any of her guests, least of all those who from diffidence or any cause seemed most in need of attention. Still, in the present instance, he was glad to be left alone.

The scenes around him had more than the interest of novelty, and there was much that he enjoyed keenly. The music was good, and his quick ear kept as perfect time to it as did Lottie's feet. He thought the square dances were beautiful and perfectly unobjectionable,—a vast improvement on many of the rude and often stupid games that he had seen at the few companies he had attended, and Lottie appeared the embodiment of grace, as she glided through them.

But when a blast-looking fellow, in whose eye lurked all evil passions and appetites, whirled her away in a waltz, he again felt, with indignation, that here was another instance in which fashion—custom—insolently trampled on divine law and womanly modesty. He had seen enough of the world to know that Lottie, with all her faults, was too good to touch the fellow whose embrace she permitted. Could she—could the others-be ignorant of his character, when it was indelibly stamped upon his face?

But Hemstead soon noticed that this man's attentions were everywhere received with marked pleasure, and that Mrs. Byram and her daughters made much of him as 8 favored guest. In anger he saw how sweetly Lottie smiled upon him as they were passing near. She caught his dark look, and, interpreting it to mean something like jealousy, became more gracious toward her roue-looking attendant, with the purpose of piquing Hemstead.

A little later Bel came into the hall, leaning upon the arm of a gentleman. Having requested her escort to get her a glass of water she was left alone a few moments. Hemstead immediately joined her and asked, "Who is that blase-looking man upon whose arm Miss Marsden is leaning?"

"And upon whom she is also smiling so enchantingly? He is the beau of the occasion, and she is the belle."

"Do you know anything about him? I hope his face and manner do him injustice."

"I fear they do not. I imagine he is even worse than he looks."

"How, then, can he be such a favorite?"

She gave him a quick, comical look, which intimated, "You are from the back country," but said, "I fear you will think less of society when I tell you the reasons. I admit that it is very wrong; but so it is. He has three great attractions: he is brilliant; he is fast; he is immensely rich,—therefore society is at his feet."

"O, no; not society, but a certain clique who weigh things in false balances," said Hemstead, quickly. "How strange it is that people are ever mistaking their small circle for the world!"

Bel gave him a look of some surprise, and thought, "I half believe he is looking down upon us with better right than we upon him."

After a moment Hemstead added, "That man there is more than fast. I should imagine that Harcourt was a little fast, and yet he has good and noble traits. I could trust him. But treachery is stamped upon that fellow's face, and the leer of a devil gleams from his eye. He is not only fast, he is bad. Does Miss Marsden know his character?"

"She knows what we all do. There are hard stories about him, and, as you say, he does not look saintly; but however wrong it may be, Mr. Hemstead, it is still a fact that society will wink at almost everything when a man is as rich and well connected as he, that is, as long as a man sins in certain conventional ways and keeps his name out of the papers."

Here her escort joined her, and they passed on; and Hemstead stood lowering at the man, the pitch of whose character began to stain the beautiful girl who, knowing him somewhat, could willingly and encouragingly remain at his side.

True, he had seen abundant proof that she had a heart, good impulses, and was capable of noble things, as he had told her; but was she not also giving 'lira equal proof that the world enthralled her heart, and that senseless and soulless fashion, rather than the will of God, or the instincts of a pure womanly nature, controlled her will?

He had no small vanity in which to wrap himself while he nursed a spiteful resentment at slights to himself. It was a tendency of his nature, and a necessity of his calling, that he should forget himself for the sake of others. Lottie awoke his sympathy, and he pitied while he blamed.

But he desponded as to the future, and feared that she would never fulfil her first beautiful promise. He realized, with a vague sense of pain, how far apart they were, and in what different worlds they dwelt. At one time it had seemed as if they might become friends, and be in accord on the chief questions of life. But now that she was smiling so approvingly upon a man whose very face proclaimed him villain, he saw a separation wider and more inexorable than Hindu caste,—that of character.

And yet with his intense love of beauty it seemed like sacrilege—the profanation of a beautiful temple—that such a girl as Charlotte Marsden should permit the associations of that evening. It was true that he could find no greater fault with her in respect to dress, manners, and attendants, than with many others,—not as much as with his own cousin. But for some reason that did not occur to him it was peculiarly a source of regret that Lottie should so fall short of what he believed true and right.

His thoughts gave expression to his face, as in momentary abstraction he paced up and down the hall. Suddenly a voice that had grown strangely familiar in the brief time he had heard it said at his side, "Why, Mr. Hemstead, you look as if at a funeral. What are you thinking of?"

Following an impulse of his open nature, he looked directly into
Lottie's face, and replied, "You."

She blushed slightly, but said with a laugh, "That is frank," but added, meaningly, "I am surprised you cannot find anything better to think about."

"I think Mr. Hemstead shows excellent judgment," said Mr. Brently, the young man whose face had seemed the index of all evil. "Where could he find anything better to think about?"

"Mr. Hemstead's compliments and yours are very different affairs. He means all he says. Mr. Hemstead, permit me to introduce to you Mr. Brently of New York. I wish you could induce him to be a missionary."

The young rake laughed so heartily at this idea that he did not notice that Hemstead's acknowledgment was frigidly slight; but Lottie did.

"How absurdly jealous!" she thought; yet it pleased her that he was.

"I shall never be good enough to eat, and so cannot be persuaded to visit the Cannibal Islands in the role of missionary." Brently was too pleased with his own poor wit, and too indifferent to Hemstead, to note that the student did not even look at him.............