free when you come to the ladder."

"Thank you, it is very light, I can manage it quite well," said Miss
Bibby, holding fast to the handle.

"It's her lunch," volunteered the ever ready Muffie, "she doesn't eat
things like you've got. But we do,--and we're getting hungry now, aren't
we, Paul?"

"Rather!" said Paul. "Can we begin to set the tables as soon as we get
down?"

Hugh looked disappointedly at the miserable little basket.

"Won't you even make a feast and be merry to-day?" he said.

Miss Bibby glanced away from the kindly eyes. How could they look so
clear and merry when he had stolen the work of her brain?

"Thank you," she said coldly, "I prefer my own things." And when he
turned away instantly, quite hurt at the unfriendly tone, she caught
hold of Max's hand and began the steep descent with a mist, not entirely
of the mountains, blinding her eyes. For she was heartsick this morning,
and it was not only the loss of the story that had occasioned the
wretchedness, but her faith and admiration for this man had been torn
away so roughly that certain sensations she hardly realized seemed
numbed.

"Come along, dear, hold my hand," she said to Max,--"Lynn, Muffie,--walk
carefully! Hold to the rail at the steep places, Paul."

But she always said this as a matter of duty, and equally as a matter of
duty they never heeded her, for even Max knew every step of the way and
had manfully climbed the ladders alone, and crept sure-footed over the
great fallen trees that formed bridges, since he was three.

Down, down they went through the exquisite gorge; greener and still more
green grew the way as the path wound farther and farther away from the
sunburnt lands overhead. Giant tree ferns grouped themselves together in
one place and in another guarded the path in sentinel-like rows. You
looked up and sheer walls of rock towered thousands of feet above your
head--brown, naked, rugged walls here--and there, where the waterfalls
dripped, clothed in a marvellous mantle of young ferns. Here a huge,
jagged promontory stretched across your way, and the diplomatic path,
unable to force a way through, simply ceased in its downward bent, and
with handrails and steps led you up again.

As a reward for expended breath, a rail at the top encircled a stone
peninsula and gave you a resting-place and an outlook--an outlook
startlingly beautiful by reason of its unexpectedness. For the
promontory had hidden the valley's lovelines