sat down on the lovely green sward, and the tired child reclined
beside her. Amy was so thoroughly worn out that she lay perfectly quiet,
and Isabel was left to her own reflections, and these were by no means
pleasant. Her conversation with Everard had cast a gloom over her
spirits, she no longer took pleasure in the ramble or in the beautiful
scenery around her, all the brightness of the day was gone, and why, he
was not the first rejected suitor, but she had never felt like this with
regard to the others. But then she had been the rich Miss Leicester, and
it was so easy to imagine that she was courted for her wealth, but in
the present instance it was different. Nothing but true disinterested
love could have prompted him, and she felt hurt and grieved to think
that she was the object of such warm affection to one who she esteemed
so highly, when her affections were already engaged. She had seen how
deeply her answer pained him, yet had not dared to answer his question.
Could she tell him what she had not dared to reveal to her dying father?
No; tho' could she have done so, it might have made it easier for
Everard to forget her. When they reached the place of rendezvous, they
found the rest of the party including Everard, already assembled, and
Peter was declaring that it was utterly impossible to return without
having some refreshments, after the immense fatigue they had all
undergone in exploring the beauties of the surrounding country. Most of
the party were of the same opinion, so forthwith he and Bob Mornington
proceeded to ransack the hampers, and distributed the contents in the
most primitive manner imaginable, to the amusement of the company
generally, and to the extreme disgust of Grace Arlington in particular.
And then there was a general move to the carriages. After they arrived
at Elm Grove, Lady Ashton insisted upon Louisa returning to the park at
once. Several voices were raised in her behalf, but in vain, Lady Ashton
was inexorable, and telling Louisa to say good bye to Mrs. Arlington,
she hurried her away, and desired Sunmers the coachman to drive Miss
Aubray home and return for her at twelve.

Arthur followed and remonstrated.

"Arthur, say no more," returned Lady Ashton decisively. "I consider you
took a great liberty in bringing her, and I will not allow her to
remain."

"Since you are quite sure that it is best for her to go, I will drive
her home, she need not go alone in the great carriage, like