"I don't wish to meet them. I want to meet the other 'set' and have a frolic."

"It will be moonlight, and we will have the drive, which will be the best part of it, you will find," said Harcourt. "Yes, we will come."

"Them folks thinks that they's made of different flesh and blood from the other 'set,' as they call us, and that pretty young woman wants to come as she would go to a menagerie," muttered the man as he went back to the store. "No matter, let 'em come, they will help us make up the salary."

"Of course, Mr. Hemstead, you will enter upon this expedition with great zeal, as it will be to the advantage of one of your fraternity."

"I think, with Mr. Harcourt, that the ride will be the best part of it."

"O, for shame! Can it be true that two of even your trade can never agree?"

"Long ages of controversy prove that," said Harcourt.

"I think your profession has done more to keep the world in hot water than ours, Mr. Harcourt."

"We at least agree among ourselves."

"All the worse, perhaps, for the world."

"That's rather severe if you refer to the proverb, 'When rogues fall out, honest men get their dues,'" said Lottie.

"I supposed we were talking in jest; I was."

"You evidently belong to the church militant, since you strike back so hard even in jest," said Harcourt. "Very well, since you are so able to take care of yourself I shall have no compunctions in regard to your fate."

Hemstead did not understand this remark, but the others did, and significant glances were exchanged. He turned inquiringly to Lottie, feeling that in a certain sense he had an ally in her, but she seemed looking away abstractedly as if she had not heeded the remark. She was too quick to be caught easily, and the conviction grew upon him that while the others from his calling and difference in views and tastes had a natural aversion, she was inclined to be friendly. And yet she puzzled him not a little at times, as now for instance, when she turned and said, "I suppose there are a great many nice young men at your seminary."

"I never heard them called' nice young men,'" he replied, looking at her keenly.

"O, I beg your pardon,--good, pious, devotional young men, I mean."

"All ought to be that; do you not think so?"

"Well, yes, I think so, since they are to become ministers."

"But not otherwise?"

"I didn't say that. There's a hint for you, Julian."

De Forrest's reply was a contemptuous shrug and laugh. It would be anything but agreeable to him to be thought "good, pious, and devotional,"--qualities not in demand at his club, nor insisted on by Lottie, and entirely repugnant to his tastes.

"Do they all intend to be missionaries as well as yourself?" she continued.

"O, no; some no doubt will take city churches, and marry wealthy wives."

"Would that be wrong?"

"I am not the judge. It's a matter of taste and conscience."

"Would you not marry a lady of wealth?"

"I would marry the woman I loved; that is, if I could get her."

"Well added," said De Forrest.

"Yes, sir, I agree with you. Every man had better add that."

"Indeed they had," said Lottie, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"There is always a chance for a man who will never take 'no' for an answer," said De Forrest with a light laugh.

"Do you think so?" she said, lifting her eyebrows questioningly.

"I agree with Mr. Hemstead. It's a matter of taste and conscience."

"Do you intend to be a missionary, Mr. Hemstead?" asked Bel Parton.

"I hope so," he replied, quietly.

"Yes," said Lottie; "just think of it. He is going away out to the jumping-off place at the West, where he will have the border ruffians on one side and the scalping Indians on the other. You said you would marry the woman you loved, if you could. Do you think any real nice girl would go with you to such a horrible place?"

"I'm sure I don't know. If the one I want won't venture, I can go alone."

"Do you think she'll go?" asked Lottie, so innocently that the others had no slight task in controlling their faces.

"Who will go?" said Hemstead, quickly.

"The one whom you said you wanted to."

"Now I'm sure I did not mention any one," said Hemstead, blushing and laughing.

"Well, you did not exactly speak her name."

"No, I should think not, since I don't know it myself."

"How provoking!" pouted Lottie. "I thought we were going to have a nice little romance."

"It's a pity I've nothing to tell, in view of my sympathizing audience," he replied, with a glance at the gigglers on the other seats.

"But I have been told," said Lottie, "that in emergencies committees have been appointed to select wives for missionaries, and that there are excellent women who are willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the cause."

An explosion of laughter followed these words, but she looked at the others in innocent surprise.

"That's a funny speech for you to make so gravely," said Hemstead.

"I fear you are quizzing me. Your missionary lore certainly exceeds mine in regard to the 'committees.' But there will be no emergency in my case, and I should be sorry to have any woman, excellent or otherwise, sacrifice herself for me."

"I have certainly heard so," said Lottie, positively.

"I fear you have heard more to the prejudice of missionaries and their works than in their favor," he said somewhat gravely.