the case in the twinkling of an eye.

On arriving at the lodge-gates Phillis began to take herself to task.
Conscience, that "makes cowards of us all," began its small inner
remonstrance; then followed self-flagellation and much belaboring of
herself with many remorseful terms. She was a pitiful thing compared
to Nan; she was conventional; there were no limits to her pride. Where
were that freedom and nobility of soul which she once fancied would
sweep over worldly prejudices, and carry her into purer air? She was
still choking in the fogs of mere earthly exhalations; no wonder Nan
was a little disappointed in her, though she was far too kind to say
so. Well, she was disappointed in herself.

By this time she had reached the hall door; and now she began to hold
up her head more boldly, and to look about her; when a very
solemn-looking butler confronted her, she said to herself, "It will be
all the same a hundred years hence, and I am determined this time not
to be beaten;" and then she asked for Mrs. Cheyne with something of
her old sprightliness, and nothing could exceed the graceful ease of
her entrance.

All the Challoners walked well. There was a purity of health about
them that made them delight in movement and every bodily exercise,--an
elasticity of gait that somehow attracted attention.

No girls danced better than they. And when they had the chance, which
was seldom, they could ride splendidly. Their skating was a joy to
see, and made one wish that the ice would last forever, that one could
watch such light, skimming practice; and as for tennis, no other girl
had a chance of being chosen for a partner unless the Challoners
good-naturedly held aloof, which ten times out of twelve they were
sure to do.

Phillis, who, from her pale complexion, was supposed to possess the
least vitality, delighted in exercise for its own sake. "It is a
pleasure only to be alive and to know it," was a favorite speech with
her on summer mornings, when the shadows were blowing lightly hither
and thither, and the birds had so much to say that it took them until
evening to finish saying it.

Mrs. Cheyne, who was lying on her couch, watched with admiring eyes
the girl's straightforward walk, so alert and business-like, so free
from fuss and consciousness, and held out her hand with a more
cordial welcome than she was accustomed to show her visitors.

It was a long room; and as the summer dusk was falling, and there was
only a sh