ple
and fine linen, in the other some truth in fig-leaves. Take your
choice."

He offered both; but Sylvia took refuge in civility.

"I thank you, I'll have neither; but if you will please steady the
hammock, I will try to find some more harmless amusement for myself."

He obeyed with one of the humorous expressions which often passed over
his face. Sylvia descended as gracefully as circumstances permitted, and
went roving up and down the cliffs. Warwick resumed his seat and the
"barbaric yawp," but seemed to find Truth in demi-toilet less
interesting than Youth in a gray gown and round hat, for which his taste
is to be commended. The girl had small scope for amusement, and when she
had gathered moss for pillows, laid out a white fungus to dry for a
future pin-cushion, harvested penny-royal in little sheaves tied with
grass-blades, watched a battle between black ants and red, and learned
the landscape by heart; she was at the end of her resources, and leaning
on a stone surveyed earth and sky with a somewhat despondent air.

"You would like something to do, I think."

"Yes, sir; for being rather new to this sort of life, I have not yet
learned how to dispose of my time."

"I see that, and having deprived you of one employment will try to
replace it by another."

Warwick rose, and going to the single birch that glimmered among the
pines like a delicate spirit of the wood, he presently returned with
strips of silvery bark.

"You were wishing for baskets to hold your spoils, yesterday; shall we
make some now?" he asked.

"How stupid in me not to think of that! Yes, thank you, I should like it
very much;" and producing her housewife, Sylvia fell to work with a
brightening face.

Warwick sat a little below her on the rock, shaping his basket in
perfect silence. This did not suit Sylvia, for feeling lively and
loquacious she wanted conversation to occupy her thoughts as pleasantly
as the birch rolls were occupying her hands, and there sat a person who,
she was sure, could do it perfectly if he chose. She reconnoitered with
covert glances, made sundry overtures, and sent out envoys in the shape
of scissors, needles, and thread. But no answering glance met hers; her
remarks received the briefest replies, and her offers of assistance were
declined with an absent "No, thank you." Then she grew indignant at this
seeming neglect, and thought, as she sat frowning over her work, behind
his back--

"He treats me like a