him, with a force that nearly overthrew that dapper gentleman, and
rendered his greeting rather peculiar. Hemstead felt, to his intense
annoyance, that the young people were at the point of exploding
with merriment at his expense, and was in a state of indignation
at himself and them. His aunt and Mr. Dimmerly, who soon recovered
himself, were endeavoring to look serenely unconscious, with but
partial success. All seemed to feel as if they were over a mine
of discourteous laughter. The unfortunate object looked nervously
around for the beautiful "cousin," and noted with a sigh of relief
that she had disappeared.

"I hope she did not see my meeting with uncle," he thought. "I
was always a gawk in society, and to-night seem possessed with the
very genius of awkwardness. She is the only one who has shown me
any real kindness, and I don't want her to think of me only as a
blundering, tongue-tied fool."

He would not have been re-assured had he known that Lottie, having
seen all, had darted back into the parlor and was leaning against
the piano, a quivering, and for the moment a helpless subject of
suppressed mirth. Mr. Dimmerly was always a rather comical object
to her, and his flying arms and spectacles, as he tried to recover
himself from the rude shock of his nephew's burly form, made a
scene in which absurdity, which is said to be the chief cause of
laughter, was pre-eminent.

But, the paroxysm passing, she followed them and took a seat
opposite her victim, with a demure sweetness and repose of manner
well-nigh fatal to the conspirators.