The Treachery of the World.

Betty and Dell, accompanied by Edith, were among the first to be at the anti-"Mormon" lecture in Dr. McLeod's church.

The minister greeted them kindly, being especially deferential to Edith who was evidently one of the most faithful members of his church.

Edith was very much attached to her church, and her minister, too. He had married her parents in this same church, and so Edith's religious life was first developed here, under the influence of Dr. McLeod, who was a spiritual man, and kindly in disposition. However, his pride in his position as a popular minister in the Presbyterian church, was his one weakness, which would bar him from sacrificing too much for truth.

"Well, Miss Emmit, I see you have come early to the fray," he said smilingly. "So this is your companion? Glad to meet you, Miss Siegler. Another young girl as missionary! Really, I don't see just how your church persuades you, young people, to leave home as you do. We couldn't get many from our church to do it, could we, Miss Edith?"

"I think not," acknowledged Edith. "The young people of today seem to be more indifferent to religion than those of any other age. I wonder why?"

"The temptations of the world, my dear," he said decidedly. "Come, sit right up front, and watch your audience enter," and he led the three girls to the front row, facing the platform.

Dell clasped Betty's hand.

"I'm awfully nervous, Betty. Aren't you?"

"Not in the least," returned Betty. "I'm just anxious to see this wicked woman."

Dr. McLeod had excused himself, and so the three girls silently watched the congregation assemble. It was composed of principally women and children. Now and then a man, or boy, entered, with an expression of indifferent curiosity, but the women seemed full of anticipation, as though a great treat was in store for them.

Betty observed them with a wondering sadness. Suddenly her eyes brightened and with an eager smile, she grasped Edith's hand. "Look! Look! Edith! Just look who's coming!"

"Who?" asked Edith surprised. Following Betty's gaze, she saw entering the other side of the church, a rather tall mannish looking woman.

"Why, it's Mrs. Catt! That dear Mrs. Catt that I told you about!" she exclaimed in a delighted whisper. "See! Dr. McLeod is taking her to the platform. May I go and speak with her?"

"Why, yes,—I suppose—" and before Edith could say more, Betty had started for the platform with enthusiasm quite oblivious to onlookers.

Mrs. Catt had just taken a seat besides the minister, when she looked up to see Betty draw near, with both hands outstretched.

"O, Mrs. Catt! Is it really you! Don't you know me? Betty Emmit, of Ephraim, Utah? Betty, your little girl of eight years ago?"

Dr. McLeod looked on, amazed and interested. He saw the color rise to the temples of the worthy Mrs. Catt, and perceived the nervous twitching of her thin lips.

For a moment she regarded Betty coldly. Then with wonderful self-control, she smiled brightly as she took the girls hands in hers.

"Why, of course, I do! Betty Emmit! Well, well, how you have grown, and what are you doing in New York, Betty?"

"I'm on a mission for the Church. And you?"

Mrs. Catt looked at Dr. McLeod and smiled.

"Poor child! I suppose she must know the truth, Dr. McLeod," she said sweetly.

Dr. McLeod turned to Betty seriously.

"Mrs. Catt is our lecturer for the afternoon. If you will resume your seat, Miss Emmit, we will begin!"

Betty dropped the woman's hands and looked from one to the other blankly.

"I don't understand—you don't mean—"

"Mrs. Catt is to lecture now on 'Mormonism,'" said Dr. McLeod, a trifle impatiently.

Betty grasped the table with a tight clinch and faced Mrs. Catt with a face as white as death.

"You don't mean that you would talk against us?" she gasped.

Dr. McLeod hastily crossed the platform and took Betty's arm.

"Come, Miss Emmit, this is no time nor place for personalities. See! the congregation is wondering now. Don't abuse the privilege I am giving you."

And he led her to her seat beside Edith. Edith anxiously questioned her, but received only a silent shake of the head.

The meeting began, Betty stared fixedly at Mrs. Catt, who never once looked her way.

It seemed all like a horrible dream to poor Betty.

After singing a few good, old hymns, the audience settled down comfortably to listen to this wonderful lecturer, who was known to not only interest, by her wonderful morbid experience, but who had the genius to make whole audiences weep with her depiction of scenes in "Mormon" life.

Mrs. Webster Catt arose and then began her thirty minutes talk on "Conditions in Utah."

She depicted many evils in that awful Godless area of America, but, most of all, she dwelt on the awful depravity of the women and girls, and beseeched the women to send money to the missionaries to alleviate, if possible, their slavedom and misery.

As Betty listened, her blood seemed to freeze. Dell noticed her eyes blazing indignation at the speaker, and she whispered, "Betty, didn't you expect it? I did. Don't get so fussed. Your turn will come."

But Dell didn't know the cyclone that was raging in Betty's heart. Here was her ideal Easterner, found at last a traitor to Ephraim and all she held dear!

Mrs. Catt proceeded boldly. She told of her trip to Ephraim, the sin that she had found there, and the awful conditions of the wives and mothers and daughters.

Betty could stand it no longer.

Rising from her seat, she approached the lecturer.

"How dare you tell these lies? My mother housed you and helped you—for what? To have you come East and lie about us. Shame! Shame on you! How can you be so wicked!"

There was a murmur of disapproval throughout the audience. A man arose importantly.

"As a member of this congregation, I would kindly ask that this girl leave the church. She has disturbed a public meeting!"

Dr. McLeod arose quietly.

"This is most unfortunate. Miss Emmit. You have embarrassed your friends, who would have been fair to you."

Edith quietly left her seat and approached Betty. Dell followed.

"Come," said Edith, lovingly putting her arm about Betty's trembling form, and leading her out before the astonished audience.

"Edith Esterbrook! What next will she do?" thought each one, with a feeling of tolerance or scorn, according to their like and dislike of this strange girl, so socially well-known.

*****

"I think, Betty, you'll have to apologize to Dr. McLeod," said President Gladder kindly.

"But should I sit and hear my dear Ephraim spoken so vilely of, and never say a word?" asked Betty surprised.

"Dear girl, I understand just exactly how you felt. And what you did, was prompted by the best of feelings. But, my dear, you are too impulsive, you must hold your feelings in with a tight rein, and let them go at the right time. You broke into a public meeting. That is not right, you know. Suppose you had waited; can't you see the good that you might have done in your lecture afterwards? This newspaper article is infamous," and he pointed to the headlines—"The Boldness of a Trained 'Mormon' Missionary."

Betty flushed hotly, and tears of shame came to her eyes.

"Yes, it's more than mean," continued President Gladder. "It's cowardly. But the papers are waiting, eagerly, to find some chance to glare a 'Mormon's' mistake. We have to watch our step or—the Church is harmed."

"I'm sorry, President Gladder. I'll see Dr. McLeod this afternoon. May I go alone?"

"Yes. And, my dear girl, then forget it. You have done more good in your one month, than most girls do in six. Next week, I want you to go to Boston. Will you be ready?"

"Yes, President Gladder," said Betty with a great lump in her throat. She mustn't let him see how hard it was for her to go.

So Betty left the mission home for the first time really unhappy. The affair of two days ago had upset her sensitive mind, and made it harder to part with those that she had grown fond of. Even old Mr. and Mrs. Esterbrook who had returned from a trip a few days ago, had won Betty's heart by their kindness. And then there was Dr. Cadman! More and more she anticipated his calls and his kindness. She grew daily more fond of this wonderful friend and she realized she was deeply in love with him in spite of her interest in her mission work.

"Perhaps it is best that I am going away," she thought sadly, as she neared Dr. McLeod's church. "I do want to do God's work with real zeal, and he certainly distracts my thoughts."

Dr. McLeod received her kindly.

"I've come to apologize for disturbing your meeting," she said with embarrassment.

"I accept the apology," replied the minister smiling. "Sit down, won't you? I have just a few minutes. Please tell me about Mrs. Catt."

"O, Dr. McLeod, can't you please stop her awful preaching? She came to Utah and almost every town entertained her, and she was so delighted with everything. We all thought she was lovely,—except Sister Heller. She is an Indian, and she warned me,—but I only scolded her for her suspicions. Can't you do something, Dr. McLeod?"

"The minister met her earnestness with a grave shake of the head.

"I would like to help you, my dear girl. I don't like unfairness, myself. I won't have her preach in my church again, but otherwise there is nothing I can do. Prejudice runs so high here, you know."

"But could not you defend the 'Mormons' in your pulpit, and expose Mrs. Catt?"

"How? I have no proof. I have never been to Utah. She has. I don't like the woman, and I like you. That is no material for an exposure, is it? All Christendom is against 'Mormonism.' I would only be disliked for my trouble."

So with great kindness Dr. McLeod bade goodbye to Betty and wished her happiness in Boston.

"And, girlie," he said in parting, "send me some of your literature. I would like to know a little more about a church that owns Betty Emmit!"

As Betty left the Parish House, her heart beat high once more. It was a wonderful joy to do missionary work after all. She would try to take a better spirit with her to Boston, and see how much she could accomplish.

*****

"All you have told me sounds very reasonable, Betty, but somehow I have not the testimony you say I ought to have." Edith's violet eyes met Betty's questioning ones, with a puzzled expression. "It is just as though I had been listening to a beautiful fairy tale, and couldn't find any fault with it, and yet"—here she paused, then added, "really, I can't explain myself."

"I think I understand," said Betty, eagerly. "Edith, down in your heart you know it is the truth, but it has not become part of you yet."

"Maybe that is it," said Edith doubtfully. "It seems as though I had been waiting for a church like yours, and yet something holds me back."

"Perhaps it is Mr. Hester's aversion to us that influences you," suggested Betty quietly.

"My dear girl, do not think Mr. Hester has an aversion to 'Mormonism,'" replied Edith blushing. "He isn't religious, and fears my joining anything new, because he knows how enthusiastically I go in for everything. But if you really knew him, you would know how very tolerant about everyone he is."

"Yes, I know he is," said Betty, "and doubtless the time will come when he will be interested too. You will write me regularly, won't you, Edith? It will be so hard to leave you."

"It will be hard for me to part with you, Betty. Of course I will write regularly. Can't you possibly come down for my wedding?"

"O, I wish I could! But I know I won't be allowed to leave the mission field. But how I shall think of you at that time!"

Edith took Betty in her arms, and, fondling her curls, kissed her again and again. Usually, Edith was undemonstrative.

"My little sunshine Betty, you really must come back to New York soon. I know I shall long for you, when I'm really, truly married."

And so Betty, loved by all, left for Boston to labor in another field. Dr. Cadman was at the boat to see her off, and filled her arms with flowers and candy.

"Good luck to you, girlie," he said, fondly. "When Alma and Harold are baptized, I'll write you all about it. I expect that will be very soon."

During that day and the next, Betty seemed to feel his presence, though she had left him, waving her out of sight. His tender concern of her, seemed to enwrap her with a dreamy satisfaction, and determination to live up to the best that was in her.