"What do you prefer, Mr. Hemstead?" she asked. "But where we people of the world speak of fairies, sprites, and nymphs, I suppose you permit yourself to think only of angels."

"Were it so," he replied, "I should still be of the same mind as Mr. De Forrest, and be glad that you are not an angel."

"Why so?"

"You might use your wings and leave us."

"Were I one, I would not leave you after that speech. But see how far I am from it. I weigh one hundred and fifteen pounds."

"I wish you were no farther off than that."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not our weight in avoirdupois that drags us down. But I am not going to preach any more to-day. Listen to the bells--how they echo from the hill-side!"

"Yes, Julian, listen to Bel," said Lottie to De Forrest, who was about to speak. "I'm talking to Mr. Hemstead. See those snow-crystals on my m.u.f.f. How can you account for so many odd and beautiful shapes?"

"To me all the countless forms in nature," said Hemstead, "prove an infinite mind gratifying itself. They are expressions of creative thought."

"Nonsense! G.o.d doesn't bother with such little things as these."

"We do not know what seems small or great to Him. The microscope reveals as much in one direction as the telescope in another, and the common house-fly seems in size midway in animal life."

"And do you believe that the Divine hand is employed in forming such trifles as these?"

"The Divine will is. But these trifles make the avalanche and the winter's protection for next year's harvest."

"What is that?" asked Harcourt from the front seat, where he was driving.

"Do you know," cried Lottie, "that Mr Hemstead thinks everything we see, even to nature's smallest trifles, an 'expression of the Divine creative thought.'"

"Is that scene such an expression?" asked Harcourt, with a sneering laugh, in which the others joined.

By the road-side there was a small hovel, at the door of which a half-fed, ill-conditioned pig was squealing. When they were just opposite, a slatternly, carroty-headed woman opened the door, and raised her foot to drive the clamorous beast away. Altogether, it was as squalid and repulsive a picture as could well be imagined.

"Yes," replied Lottie, looking into his face with twinkling eyes, "was that sweet pastoral scene an expression of creative thought?"

"The woman certainly was not," he answered, reddening. "A thought may be greatly perverted."

"Whatever moral qualities may be a.s.serted of her manners, costume, and character," said Harcourt, "she is not to blame for the cast of her features and the color of her hair. I scarcely know of an artist who would express any such thought, unless he wished to satirize humanity."

"You can call up before you the portrait of some beautiful woman, can you not, Mr. Harcourt?"

"Let me a.s.sist you," cried De Forrest, pulling from his inner pocket a photograph of Lottie.

"Hush, Julian. I'm sorry you do not appreciate this grave argument more; I'll take that picture from you, if you don't behave better."

"Well, I have a picture before me now, that satisfies me fully,"

said Mr. Harcourt, turning to Lottie with a smiling bow.

"Now, suppose that you had painted just such a likeness and finished it. Suppose I should come afterwards, and, without destroying your picture utterly, should blend with those features the forbidding aspect of the woman we have just seen, would you not say that your thought was greatly perverted?"

"I should think I would."

"Well, Mother Eve was the true expression of the Divine Artist's creative thought, and the woman we saw was the perversion of it.

You can trace no evil thing to the source of all good. Perfection is not the author of imperfection."

"Who does the perverting, then?" asked Lottie.

"Evil."

"I don't think it fair that one face and form should be perverted into hideousness, and mother left with something of the first perfection."

"Evil is never fair, Miss Marsden."

"But is it only evil? I have heard plain children told, when resenting their ugliness, that it was wicked, for they were just as G.o.d made them."

"Can you think of a better way to make a young girl hate G.o.d than to tell her that?"

"But suppose it's true."

"I am sure it is not. Just the opposite is true. The ugly and deformed are as evil has marred them, and not as G.o.d has made them. By seeking the Divine Artist's aid more than humanity's first perfection can be regained. It is possible for even that wretched creature we saw to attain an outward loveliness exceeding that of any woman now living."

"That pa.s.ses beyond the limit of my imagination," said Harcourt.

"Absurd!" muttered De Forrest.

"I fear you are not orthodox," said Bel.

"That means you do not agree with me. But please do not think that because I am a minister you must talk upon subjects that are rather grave and deep for a sleighing party."

"That's right, Cousin Frank," said Addie. "Dr. Beams will want you to preach for him next Sunday. I advise you to reserve your thunder till that occasion, when you may come out as strong as you please."

"'Chinese thunder' at best," whispered Harcourt to Addie; but all heard him.

Hemstead bit his lip and said nothing, but Lottie spoke up quickly: "No matter about the 'thunder,' Mr. Harcourt. That is only noise under any circ.u.mstances. But suppose there is the lightning of truth in what Mr. Hemstead says?"

"And suppose there is not?" he replied, with a shrug.

Hemstead gave Lottie a quick, pleased look, which Bel and De Forrest smilingly noted, and the conversation changed to lighter topics.

As they were pa.s.sing through a small hamlet some miles back from the river, a bare-headed man came running out from a country store and beckoned them to stop, saying: "We're going to give our dominie a donation party to-night. Perhaps Mrs. Marehmont will do suthin'

for us, or likely you'll all like to drive over and help the young folks enjoy themselves."

"Capital!" cried Lottie; "I've always wanted to attend a country donation. Do you think we can come, Addie?"

"O, certainly, if you wish, but I fear you won't enjoy it. You will not meet any of our 'set' there."