"But how did you get her up the mountain again?"

"Oh! I got her up," returned Rand moodily.

"But how? Really, Mr. Rand, you don't know how interesting this is. It's
as good as a play," said the "Pet," with a little excited laugh.

"Oh, I carried her up!"

"In your arms?"

"Y-e-e-s."

Miss Euphemia paused, and bit off the stalk of a flower, made a wry
face, and threw it away from her in disgust.

Then she dug a few tiny holes in the earth with her parasol, and buried
bits of the flower-stalk in them, as if they had been tender memories.
"I suppose you knew Mornie very well?" she asked.

"I used to run across her in the woods," responded Rand shortly, "a year
ago. I didn't know her so well then as--" He stopped.

"As what? As NOW?" asked the "Pet" abruptly. Rand, who was coloring
over his narrow escape from a topic which a delicate kindness of Sol had
excluded from their intercourse on the mountain, stammered, "as YOU do,
I meant."

The "Pet" tossed her head a little. "Oh! I don't know her at all--except
through Sol."