r hat, and strange
boots, which she had made to order after her own design. They were like
short riding boots, pulled on and crumpled over the instep like a glove.
She was striking, _chic_, a personality.

"By Jove! Isabelle gets herself up smartly, Max," commented Wally, soon
after their arrival at the inn. Their daughter walked toward them, with
every eye on the long piazza following in her wake.

"It is too _outree_, but it is effective. She knows everybody looks at
her, she intends they shall, but look how the monkey carries it off,"
laughed Max, struck into a sort of admiration.

"What's doing with you to-day, my noble parents?"

"Oh, I don't know. What are _you_ doing?" Wally answered.

"I'm going to ride. I can't stand this clack-clatter," she said,
indicating the groups on the veranda. "Dull lot, don't you think?"

"Have you met any one yet?" inquired her mother.

"Don't have to. I know what they are by just looking at them."

"L'enfant prodige!" jeered Max.

A tall, very fine-looking man in riding togs passed them, with a swift
look at Isabelle.

"That's Cartel, isn't it?" Wally asked.

"The actor man?" said Max, looking after him.

"Actor-manager he calls himself now. Good-looking brute, isn't he?"
answered Wally, idly.

Isabelle seemed oblivious to the whole incident but privately she
marked Sidney Cartel as her own. She went off, shortly, to change.

"Why don't you ride with her, Wally? She oughtn't to go off around these
mountains alone."

"Too hot. She can take care of herself."

"Which way did Mr. Cartel go?" Isabelle inquired of the stable groom who
mounted her.

"Sunrise Trail, Miss," he answered.

Isabelle started off for Sunrise Trail, with the directness of purpose
which marked all her actions. It was some time before she caught sight
of him, and to her annoyance she saw he was with a party of friends.
Whenever the trail permitted he rode beside a certain woman--leaning
toward her with marked devotion. Isabelle brought up the rear of the
procession. The others became aware of her, evidently commented on her.
Mr. Cartel looked back frequently.

When Isabelle came to a place wide enough to turn she retraced her
steps. She went back to the inn determined to discover who Mr. Cartel's
special companion was. The groom furnished it, for a price:

"Mrs. Andrews was with him, Miss. She mostly is."

Saturday night was the weekly hop, the most festive occasion of the
week. Max had giv