Implacable, and maintaining a haughty
silence, she packed her suitcase and put an outing flannel
nightgown--with a nap so long that it looked like a fur garment--in a
fishnet bag. Having made stiff adieux to the party, she went and sat
down on a rock by the roadside to await some passerby who would take her
to Prouty.

She quite enjoyed herself for a time, thinking what a strong character
she was, and how independent. A weaker woman would have allowed herself
to be persuaded to overlook the incident, but she was of different
metal. For nearly an hour this thought gave her great satisfaction, but,
gradually, the monotony began to pall and she had a growing feeling of
resentment that nobody missed her. It seemed deceitful, after making
such an ado over her decision to leave them, to resign themselves so
quickly to her absence. Mattie Gaskett might come and renew her
entreaties for her to return, or, at least, keep her company!

The occasional bursts of laughter that reached her were like personal
affronts and, finally, she included everybody in her indignation at
"Red" McGonnigle. But, as the time dragged, her mood changed
perceptibly. Though she would not admit it in her secret heart, she
wished that someone would come and coax her to reconsider. From this
stage, while the tents were being dismantled and packed into the
bed-wagon accompanied by much merriment, she came to a point where she
tried to think of some excuse that would enable her to return without
seeming to make any concession.

As it happened, the only person who gave Miss Mercy any thought as she
waited forlornly by the roadside was Aunt Lizzie Philbrick. Although she
and Miss Mercy had not been speaking since the episode of the butterfly,
her tender conscience was troubled that she had not said good-bye to
her. The more she thought about it the more strongly it urged her to be
forgiving and magnanimous to the extent of wishing Miss Mercy a pleasant
journey. With this purpose in view Aunt Lizzie left the others and
started for the roadside. If she had not been otherwise engaged at the
moment, Miss Mercy might have seen Aunt Lizzie's white sailor hat
bobbing above the intervening bushes, but she was intent on learning the
cause of a rustling she had heard in the leaves behind her. It was a
snake, undoubtedly, and it flashed through Miss Mercy's mind that here
was her opportunity not only to return to camp but to go back a heroine.

She set her fishnet ba