"It is ever G.o.d's will that we should do our best in all emergencies.

He will help only those who try to help themselves. He calls us his children, not his machines. The point I wish to make is, that when we do our best, which is always required of us, we are still dependent upon Him."

"I never had it made so plain before. The fact is, Mr. Hemstead, I don't know much about G.o.d, and I don't half understand myself.

This day seems like an age. I have had so many strange experiences since I stood with you in the breakfast-room this morning,--and have been near, perhaps, still stranger experiences, for which I feel little prepared,--that I am excited and bewildered. I fear you think very poorly of me."

"You do often puzzle me very greatly, Miss Marsden," he replied.

"But I think you are p.r.o.ne to do yourself injustice. Still that is far better than hypocritical seeming. Whatever your fault is, you proved to me last night, and most conclusively again this evening, that you have a kind, generous heart. More than all, you have shown yourself capable of the n.o.blest things."

Lottie made no reply, but sat silent for some time; and, having reached the level once more, Hemstead gave his attention to the horses, till satisfied that they recognized their master and would give no further trouble.

"Won't you sing again?" he asked.

"Yes, if you will sing with me."

"I would rather listen, but will accept your condition when I can."

She would only sing what he knew, and noted in pleased surprise that his musical culture was by no means trifling.

"How could you take time from your grave theological studies for such a comparatively trifling thing as music?" she asked.

"Some practical knowledge of music is no trifling matter with me,"

he replied. "In view of my prospective field of work, next to learning to preach, learning to sing is the most important. I shall have to start the hymns, as a general thing, and often sing them alone."

"How can you look forward to such a life?"

"I can look forward in grateful gladness. I only wish I were more worthy of my work."

"Did I not know your sincerity I should say that was affectation."

"Who was it that preached to the 'common people,' and in the obscure little towns of Palestine eighteen centuries ago? Am I better than my Master?"

"You are far better than I am. No one has ever talked to me as you have. I might have been different if they had."

"Miss Marsden," said Hemstead, earnestly, as they were driving up the avenue to the Marchmont residence, "when you stood beside me this morning I pointed you to a world without, whose strange and marvellous beauty excited your wonder and delight. You seem to me on the border of a more beautiful world,--the spiritual world of love and faith in G.o.d. If I could only show you that, I should esteem it the greatest joy of my life."

"That is a world I do not understand; nor am I worthy to enter it," she said in sudden bitterness, "and I fear I never shall be; and yet I thank you all the same."

A few moments later they were sitting round the parlor fire, recounting the experiences of the evening.

Before entering the house Lottie had said, "Let us say nothing about runaway horses to aunt and uncle, or they may veto future drives."

To Hemstead's surprise Lottie seemed in one of her gayest moods, and he was reluctantly compelled to think her sketch of the people at the donation a little satirical and unfeeling. But while she was portraying Hemstead as the hero of the occasion, she had the tact to make no reference to Harcourt. But he generously stated the whole case, adding, with a light laugh, that he had learned once for all that coaxing and wheedling were better than driving.

"Appealing to their better natures, you mean," said Hemstead.

"Yes, that is the way you would put it."

"I think it's the true way."

"Perhaps it is. Human nature has its good side if one can only find it, but I'm satisfied that it won't drive well."

"I think work among such people the most hopeless and discouraging thing in the world," said Mrs. Marchmont, yawning.

"It doesn't seem to me so, aunt," said Hemstead. "On the contrary, are not people situated as they are peculiarly open to good influences?

Next to gospel truth, I think the influence of refined, cultivated families could do more for the people at Scrub Oaks than anything else. If they did not alienate the plain people by exclusiveness and pride, they would soon tone them up and refine away uncouthness and unconscious vulgarity in manners. Let me give you a practical instance of this that occurred to-night. I asked a pretty young girl why she and the little group around her had given up the kissing games, and she replied that 'Miss Marsden had said that no lady played such games, and she wouldn't any more.' Young people are quick and imitative, and I noticed that they watched Miss Marsden as if she were a revelation to them, and many, no doubt, obtained ideas of lady-like bearing and manner that were entirely new to them, but which they will instinctively adopt. I think she would be surprised if she could foresee how decided and lasting an influence this brief visit of one evening will have on many that were present."

"But refined people of standing cannot meet with such a cla.s.s socially," replied his aunt, with emphasis. "Such a mixing up would soon bring about social anarchy. Lottie is a little peculiar, and went there as a stranger upon a frolic."

"Now, auntie, that designation 'peculiar' is a very doubtful compliment."

"I didn't mean it for one, my dear, though I meant no reproach in it. You get too many compliments as it is. Frank, like all young, inexperienced people, has many impractical ideas, that time will cure. Young enthusiasts of every age are going to turn the world upside down, but I note that it goes on very much the same."

"I think evil has turned the world upside down," said Hemstead.

"The wrong side is up now, and it is our duty to turn the right side back again. We can't carry exclusiveness beyond this brief life. Why, then, make it so rigid here? The One who was chief of all was the friend of all."

"O, well," said Mrs. Marchmont, in some confusion, "we can't expect to be like Him. Then what is appropriate in one place and age is not in another."

"No, indeed, Mr. Hemstead," said Lottie, with twinkling eyes. "I'd have you to understand that the religion appropriate to our place and age is one that pleases us."

"I didn't say that, Lottie," said Mrs. Marchmont, with some irritation.

"Very true, auntie, but I did! and, as far as I can judge, it's true in New York, whatever may be the case in the country. But come, we've had supper, and have kept you and uncle up too late already.

Kiss your saucy niece good night; perhaps I'll be better one of these days."

"If kissing will make you better, come here to me," said Mr. Dimmerly.

"I wouldn't mind doing a little missionary work of that kind."

"No, indeed," laughed Harcourt; "we'll all turn missionaries on those terms."

"Yes," said De Forrest, "I'll promise to be a devoted missionary all my life."

"There, I said that you would have a religion you liked," retorted Lottie, pirouetting to the dining-room door. "But I'm too far gone for any such mild remedies. There's Bel, she's trying to be good.

You may all kiss her"; and, with a look at Hemstead he did not understand, she vanished.

CHAPTER XIII.

A LOVER QUENCHED.

Bel followed her friend to their room, full of irritable reproaches.

But Lottie puzzled her again, as she had done before that day.