here?" Margie
inquired.

"Oh, no. I expect to spend years at work in the arts before I am worthy
of him."

"What arts?"

"It is not decided. I may paint, or sing, or act."

"But you haven't any talent for painting or singing."

"You never can tell, Margie. I've had no chance ta show what I can do.
Besides, I _can_ act."

"I think you're too plain to go on the stage, myself," was the
withering reply, but it did not wither Isabelle.

"Beauty, my dear, is nothing; Art is everything," was her unassailable
reply.

So upon the wings of romance Isabelle floated through the spring term.
She was to spend the summer at an inn in the mountains, as The Beeches
was not to be opened. Her parents and teachers, encouraged by three
months of good behaviour, believed that a permanent change of heart had
taken place in the girl. On the day of her departure, Miss Vantine
congratulated her upon her improvement, and alluded to the coming year
as the crown of her achievements. Isabelle smiled politely, for she had
thoroughly decided in her own mind that this was her farewell to school.

CHAPTER TWENTY

If Max and Wally had ever shown one grain of intelligence in regard to
Isabelle they never would have taken her to this big, fashionable
mountain inn where her field of adventure was so greatly enlarged. But
they never had shown any discrimination in regard to her, so nothing
could be expected of them at this stage.

Isabelle was a marked figure wherever she went now. She had forcibly
taken over the matter of her own wardrobe in the spring of this year.
Max had never made a success of it because she never gave any study to
the girl's points; she dismissed her as plain, and bought her things
with indifference.

Now Isabelle had a flair for the odd, and she understood her own
limitations and her own style. She was small, and slim as a reed,
without being bony. She had what she called "hair-coloured" hair, and an
odd face--wide between the eyes, but a perfect oval in shape. Her eyes
were her only beauty.

Fluffy, young-girl clothes merely accentuated her lack of youthful
prettiness. With unerring instinct as a child, she had chosen her riding
clothes to show off in. Now these same clothes formed the basis of her
system. By day she was always in tailored frocks of the strictest
simplicity. They were linen, or silk, or wool, made after the same
model. Slim, tight skirt; slim, fitted coat; sailo