Bel yawned at the rather peculiar and tragic ending that Lottie suggested for herself, and was soon dozing on a lounge. But either a restless spirit of mischief, or a disturbed conscience, prevented Lottie from following her example.
It would at times seem true that, when engaged in something that conscience forbids, the very opposition incites and leads to the evil. The conflict between inclination and the sense of right creates a feverish unrest, in which one cannot settle down to ordinary pursuits and duties. If principle holds the reins, and the voice of conscience is clear and authoritative, the disturbed mental and moral state will end in the firm choice of duty, and consequent peace and rest. But if, as in the case of Lottie Marsden, impulse rules in the place of principle, and conscience is merely like a half-dreaded, reproachful face, this unrest is the very hour and opportunity for temptation. Some escape from self and solitude must be found; some immediate excitement must engross the thoughts; and the very phase of evil against which conscience is vainly protesting has at the same time the most dangerous fascination.
So Lottie escaped from her own self-reproaches as a naughty child runs away from a scolding, and was soon at the parlor entrance with a noiseless tread, a grace of motion, and a motive that suggested the lithe panther stealing on its prey. The door was ajar, and a hasty glance revealed that the object of her designs was alone. Her stealthy manner changed instantly, and she sauntered into the room with quiet indifference, humming an air from Faust.
"O, you are here!" she exclaimed, as if suddenly becoming aware of his presence. "Why do you not take a nap like the others? I hope you are not troubled by a bad conscience."
"What suggested a bad conscience, Miss Marsden?"
"Your sleeplessness."
"I am glad it was not your own. Why are you not taking a nap? I thought you started for one."
"So I did, but found I did not want it. But you are not a Yankee that you must answer my question with another. What are you reading? Won't you read it to me?"
"I would rather not read this book to you; but I will any other that you wish."
"You must learn human nature better, Mr. Hemstead. Don't you know that you have said just enough to make me wish that book and no other? What is it about?"