next?" asked Major
Howard, as the group disposed themselves on the sofas of their own
private parlor for an evening of rest and quiet, after a day passed in
visits to different objects in the vicinity. "I declare these mountains
will exhaust me entirely, and I shall be obliged to go away without
beholding one half of their alleged wonders."

Young Williams laughed and said, "You are not half as good a traveller
as your daughter, major. Instead of looking worn and fatigued by her
repeated rambles, she seems more fresh and blooming than on our first
arrival."

"Yes," returned the father, looking affectionately on his daughter, "she
thrives wonderfully on mountains. I recollect, when we stood on the
freezing summit of Washington, she expressed a wish to burrow among its
rocks and pass a life-time there, listening to the winds o' nights, and
other like charming diversions."

"I did not think her disposition so solitary," remarked young Williams.

"O, she was not going to dwell alone! She wanted one companion to share
her habitation. I don't know who it was,--perhaps you were the doomed
one!"

"I dare not presume to think Miss Florence would select me for a doom so
blissful," returned he, gallantly. "Her choice would fall on some of my
more fortunate neighbors."

"Rather say _un_fortunate," said Florence, coloring; "for in that light
I think most people would regard the prospect of a life passed amid the
clouds and storms of Mount Washington."

"Would you thus regard it, Lindenwood?" inquired young Williams, turning
his gaze upon Edgar.

"I don't know," returned the latter. "It might prove an agreeable
summer-home; but I think I would want to fly away on the approach of
winter."

Major Howard drew forth his guide-book and occupied himself turning over
the pages a few moments.

"We have achieved the Flume, the Pool, and the Basin to-day," said he at
length. "Say, Lindenwood, where shall we go to-morrow? You are the
pioneer of the band."

"I have thought, should the day prove fine," answered he, "it would be
pleasant to make an excursion to the summit of Mount Lafayette, or the
'Great Haystack' mountain, as it is sometimes called, which lies several
miles west from this point."

"More mountains towering before us! When shall we have done with them?"
said the major, in a lugubrious tone. "How high is this Haystack you
speak of?"

"But seven hundred feet less than Mount Washington," answered Edgar.

"O dear!"