ughtfulness, and once more
inspected Miss Westlake critically.

There was no question that she would be as stout as her mother and her
father when she reached their age. However, personal attractiveness is
an essence and can not be weighed by the pound. Sam was bound to
admit, after thoughtful judgment, that Miss Westlake might be
personally attractive to a great many people, but really there hadn't
seemed to be anything flowing from him to her or from her to him, even
when he had held tightly to her hand to help her up the steep slope of
the rock floor.

"Yes, it is a charming place," he once more admitted. "Looks almost as
if this little semi-circle had been built out of these loose rocks by
design. Of course, your father wouldn't take the original stock in
your name."

"Oh, no, I don't suppose so," she said. "He never does. He takes out
the stock himself, and then transfers it to us."

"Of course," Sam agreed; "and naturally he'd hold it long enough to
vote at the original stock-holders' meeting."

"I couldn't say about that," she laughed. "That's going beyond my
business depth just yet, but I'm going to learn all about such things,"
and she looked across at him with apparent shy confidence that he would
take pleasure in teaching her.

"Hoo-hoo-oo-oo-oo-oo!" came a sudden call from down in the road, and,
turning, they saw Miss Hastings and Billy Westlake, who both waved
their hands at the amphitheatre couple and came scrambling up the rocks.

"Mr. Princeman and Mr. Tilloughby are looking for you everywhere,
Hallie," said Miss Hastings to Miss Westlake. "You know you promised
to make that famous salad dressing of yours. Luncheon is nearly ready,
all but that, and they're waiting for you over at the glade. My, what
a dear little place this is! How did you ever find it?" Miss Hastings
was now quite conspicuously panting and fanning herself. "I'm so tired
climbing those rocks," she went on. "I shall simply have to sit down
and rest a bit. Billy will take you over, Hallie, and Mr. Turner will
bring me by and by, I am sure."

Mr. Turner stated that he would do so with pleasure. Miss Westlake
surveyed her dearest friend more in anger than in sorrow. It was such
a brazen trick, and she gazed from her brother to Mr. Turner in sheer
wonder that they were not startled into betrayal of how shocked they
were. Whatever strong emotions they might have had upon that subject
were utterly without reflection