; and Tom, who was some thing of
a naturalist, told her about mosses and lichens, more than she knew;
and the walk was too short for Lois. But on reaching the hotel she went
straight to her own room and stayed there. So also after dinner, which
of course brought her to the company, she went back to her solitude and
her work. She must write home, she said. Yet writing was not Lois's
sole reason for shutting herself up.

She would keep herself out of the way, she reasoned. Probably this
company of city people with city tastes would not stay long at
Appledore; while they were there she had better be seen as little as
possible. For she felt that the sight of Tom Caruthers' handsome face
had been a pleasure; and she felt--and what woman does not?--that there
is a certain very sweet charm in being liked, independently of the
question how much you like in return. And Lois knew, though she hardly
in her modesty acknowledged it to herself, that Mr. Caruthers liked
her. Eyes and smiles and manner showed it; she could not mistake it;
nay, engaged man though he was, Mr. Lenox liked her too. She did not
quite understand him or his manner; with the keen intuition of a true
woman she felt vaguely what she did not clearly discern, and was not
sure of the colour of his liking, as she was sure of Tom's. Tom's--it
might not be deep, but it was true, and it was pleasant; and Lois
remembered her promise to her grandmother. She even, when her letter
was done, took out her Bible and opened it at that well-known place in
2nd Corinthians; "Be not unequally yoked together with
unbelievers"--and she looked hard at the familiar words. Then, said
Lois to herself, it is best to keep at a distance from temptation. For
these people were unbelievers. They could not understand one word of
Christian hope or joy, if she spoke them. What had she and they in
common?

Yet Lois drew rather a long breath once or twice in the course of her
meditations. These "unbelievers" were so pleasant. Yes, it was an
undoubted fact; they were pleasant people to be with and to talk to.
They might not think with her, or comprehend her even, in the great
questions of life and duty; in the lesser matters of everyday
experience they were well versed. They understood the world and the
things in the world, and the men; and they were skilled and deft and
graceful in the arts of society. Lois knew no young men,--nor old, for
that matter,--who were, as gentlemen, as social companio