So Bell had written to her brother, bidding him hasten on with Katy, as she wished to see “that chit of a widow in her proper place.”  And Katy had been weak enough for a moment to feel a throb of satisfaction in knowing how effectually Sybil’s claims to belleship would be put aside when she was once in the field; even glancing at herself in the mirror as she leaned on Wilford’s shoulder, and feeling glad that mountain air and mountain exercise had brought the roses back to her white cheeks and the brightness to her eyes.  But Katy wept passionate tears of repentance for that weakness, when an hour later she read the letter which Dr. Grant had sent in answer to one she had written from the Mountain House, and in which she had told him much of her life in New York, confessing her shortcomings, and lamenting that the evils and excesses which shocked her once did not startle her now.  To this letter Morris had replied as a brother might write to an only sister, first expressing his joy at her happiness, and then coming to the subject which lay nearest his heart, warning her against temptation, reminding her of that other life to which this is only a preparation, and beseeching her so to use the good things of this world, given her in such profusion, as not to lose the life eternal.

This was the substance of Morris’ letter, which Katy read with streaming eyes, forgetting Saratoga as Morris’ solemn words of warning and admonition rang in her ears, and shuddering as she thought of losing the life eternal of going where Morris would never come, nor any of those she loved the best, unless it were Wilford, who might reproach her with having dragged him there when she could have saved him.

“Keep yourself unspotted from the world,” Morris had said, and she repeated it to herself, asking:  “How shall I do that?  How can one be good and fashionable, too?”

Then laying her hand upon the rock where she was sitting, Katy tried to pray as she had not prayed in months, asking that God would teach her what she ought to know, and keep her unspotted from the world.  But at the Mountain House it is easier to pray that one be kept from temptation than it is at Saratoga, which this summer was crowded to overflowing, its streets presenting a fitting picture of Vanity Fair, so full were they of show and gala dress.  At the United States, where Mrs. Cameron stopped, two rooms, for which an enormous price was paid, had been reserved for Mr. and Mrs. Wilford Cameron, and this of itself would have given them a certain eclat, even if there had not been present many who remembered the proud, fastidious bachelor, and were proportionately anxious to see his wife.  She came, she saw, she conquered; and within three days after her arrival Katy Cameron was the acknowledged belle of Saratoga, from the United States to the Clarendon.  And Katy, alas! was not quite the same who on the mountain ridge had sat with Morris’ letter in her hand, praying