ted. The apparent self-effacement effected by
good-breeding, even in the wicked, is certainly more agreeable to an
ordinary world than the unconscious egotism of a large class of the
good.

After a quarter of an hour the woodman's trail they were following
turned and went up the mountain-side. No one save Anne and the
missionary had the slightest intention of walking two miles to look for
a flower, but they were willing to stroll on for a while. They came to
the main road, and crossed it, making many objections to its being
there, with its commonplace daylight, after the shade, flickering
sunbeams, and vague green vistas of the forest. But on this road, in the
dust, a travelling harp-player was trudging along, accompanied by a
wizened little boy and a still more wizened monkey.

"Let us carry them off into the deepest woods, and have a dance," said
Isabel. "We will be nymphs and dryades, and all sorts of woodland
things."

It is difficult to dance on uneven ground, in the middle of the day, to
the sound of an untuned old harp, and a violin held upside down, and
scraped by a melancholy boy. But Isabel had her way, or rather took it,
and they all set off somewhat vaguely for "the deepest woods," leaving
the woodman's path, and following another track, which Isabel pronounced
"such a dear little trail it must lead somewhere." The Reverend Ezra was
disturbed. He thought he held them all under his own guidance, when, lo!
they were not only leaving him and his orchid without a word of excuse,
but were actually departing with a wandering harpist to find a level
spot on which to dance!

"I--I think that path leads only to an old quarry," he said, with a
hesitating smile.

But no one paid any attention to him, save Anne, who had paused also,
uncertain what to do.

"We will get the orchid afterward, Miss Douglas," said Dexter. "I
promise that you shall have it."

"But Mr. Sloane," said Anne, glancing toward the deserted missionary.

"Come with us, dominie," said Dexter, with the ready good-nature that
was one of his outward characteristics. It was a quick, tolerant
good-nature, and seemed to belong to his broad, strong frame.

But the dominie had a dignity of his own, after all. When he realized
that he was forsaken, he came forward and said quietly that he would go
up the mountain alone and get the orchid, joining them at the main-road
crossing on the way back.

"As you please," said Dexter. "And I, for one, shall f