ard of silver,
which the monkey had received cynically as it was placed piece by piece
in his little paw, Isabel led off all the ladies "to explore the
quarry," expressly forbidding the others to follow. With an air of great
enjoyment in their freedom and solitude the floating draperies departed,
and the smokers were left under the trees, content, on their side also,
to have half an hour of quiet. Mr. Peter Dane immediately and heartily
yawned at full width, and was no longer particular as to the position of
his legs. In truth, it was the incipient fatigue on the face of this
distinguished widower which had induced Isabel to lead off her exploring
party; for when a man is over fifty, nothing is more dangerous than to
tire him. He never forgives it.

Isabel led her band round to an ascent, steep but not long; her plan was
to go up the hill through the wood, and appear on the top of the quarry,
so many graceful figures high in the air against the blue sky, for the
indolent smokers below to envy and admire. Isabel was a slender creature
with a pale complexion; the slight color produced by the exercise would
be becoming. Rachel, who was dimpled, "never could climb"; her "ankles"
were "not strong." (And certainly they were very small ankles for such a
weight of dimples.) The party now divided itself under these two
leaders; those who were indolent staid with Rachel; those who were not
afraid of exercise went with Isabel. A few went for amusement, without
motive; among these was Anne. One went for wrath; and this was Valeria
Morle.

It is hard for a neutral-faced girl with a fixed opinion of her own
importance to learn the lesson of her real insignificance, when removed
from the background of home, at a place like Caryl's. Valeria was there,
mistakenly visiting an aunt for two weeks, and with the calm security of
the country mind, she had mentally selected Ward Heathcote as her knight
for the time being, and had bestowed upon him in consequence several
little speeches and smiles carefully calculated to produce an
impression, to mean a great deal to any one who was watching. But
Heathcote was not watching; the small well-regulated country smiles had
about as much effect as the twitterings of a wren would have in a wood
full of nightingales. Miss Morle could not understand it; had they not
slain their thousands, nay, ten thousands (young lady's computation), in
Morleville? She now went up the hill in silent wrath, glad to do