he valley--I who have watched the sun rise and set from the very edge
of the world. Why did they take me away? If I had only waited a little
longer--a little longer--as he told me to wait!" Her voice suddenly
vibrated with a craving that was passionate. "He would have come with the
next sunrise. I always knew that the dawn would bring him back to me.
But"--dull despair took the place of longing--"they took me away, and the
sun has never shone since."

"Isabel!" Scott's voice was very grave and quiet. "Miss Bathurst will
wonder what you mean. Don't forget her!"

Dinah pressed close to her friend's side. "Oh, but I do understand!" she
said softly. "And, dear Mrs. Everard, I wish I could help you. But I
think Mr. Studley must be right. It is easier to get to heaven than to
climb those mountain-peaks. They are so very steep and far away."

"So is Heaven, child," said Isabel, with a sigh of great weariness.

As it were with reluctance, she again met the steady gaze of Scott's
eyes, and gradually her mood seemed to change. Her brief animation
dropped away from her; she became again passive, inert, save that she
still seemed to be watching.

Scott broke the silence, kindly and practically. "We ought to reach the
_chalet_ at the head of the pass soon," he said. "You will be glad of
some tea."

"Oh, are we going to stop for tea?" said Dinah.

"That's the idea," said Scott. "And then back by another way. We ought to
get a good view of the sunset. I hope it won't be misty, but they say a
change is coming."

"I hope it won't come yet," said Dinah fervently. "The last few days have
been so perfect. And there is so little time left."

Scott smiled. "That is the worst of perfection," he said. "It never
lasts."

Dinah's eyes were wistful. "It will go on being perfect here long after
we have left," she said. "Isn't it dreadful to think of all the good
things--all the beauty--one misses just because one isn't there?"

"It would be if there were nothing else to think of," said Scott. "But
there is beauty everywhere--if we know how to look for it."

She looked at him uncertainly. "I never knew what it meant before I came
here," she told him shyly. "There is no time for beautiful things in my
life. It's very, very drab and ugly. And I am very discontented. I have
never been anything else."

Her voice quivered a little as she made the confession. Scott's eyes were
so kind, so full of friendly understanding. Isabel had dropped