then!" she retorted. "I never asked you to."
"What a lie!" said Billy, with all a brother's gallantry.
She threw him a sister's look of scorn and deigned no rejoinder. But in a moment the incident was forgotten. "Oh, look there!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Isn't that just like Rose de Vigne? She's always sure to appropriate the most handsome man within sight. I've been watching that man from my window. He is a perfect Apollo, and skates divinely. And now she's got him!"
Deep disgust was audible in her voice. Billy looked up with a sideways grin. "You don't suppose he'd look at a sparrow like you, do you?" he said. "He prefers a swan, you bet."
"Be quiet, Billy!" commanded Dinah, making an ineffectual dig at him with her foot. "I don't want him to look at me. I hate men. But it is too bad the way Rose always chooses the best. It's just the same with everything. And I long—oh, I do long sometimes—to cut her out!"
"I should myself," said Scott unexpectedly. "But why don't you. I'm sure you could."
She threw him a whimsical smile. "I!" she said. "Why that's about as likely as—" she stopped short in some confusion.
He laughed a little. "You mean I might as soon hope to cut out Apollo? But the cases are not parallel, I assure you. Besides, Apollo happens to be my brother, which makes a difference."
"Oh, is he your brother? What a good thing you told me!" laughed Dinah.
"I might have said something rude about him in a minute."
"Like me!" said Billy, stumbling to his feet. "I made a most horrific blunder, didn't I, Mr. Studley? I called him a bounder!"
Dinah looked at him witheringly. "You would!" she said. "Well, I hope you apologized."
Billy stuck out his tongue at her. "I didn't then!" he returned, and skated elegantly away on one leg.
"Billy," remarked Dinah dispassionately, "is not really such a horrid little beast as he seems."
Scott smiled his courteous smile. "I had already gathered that," he said.
Her green eyes darted him a swift look, as if to ascertain if he were in earnest. Then: "That was very nice of you," she said. "I wonder how you knew."
He still smiled, but without much mirth. "A looker-on sees a good many things, you know," he said.
Dinah's eyes flashed understanding. She said no more.
CHAPTER III
THE SEARCH
When Isabel came slowly forth at length from the hotel door whither Biddy had conducted her, Scott was sitting alone on a bench in the sunshine.
He rose at once to join her. "Why, how quick you have been! Or else the time flies here. Eustace is still skating. I had no idea he was so accomplished. See, there he is!"
But Isabel set her haggard face towards the mountain-road that wound up beyond the hotel. "I am going to look for Basil," she said.
"It is waste of time," said Scott quietly.
But he did not attempt to withstand her. They turned side by side up the hard, snowy track.
For some time they walked in silence. At a short distance from the hotel, the road ascended steeply through a pine-wood, dark and mysterious as an enchanted forest, through which there rose the sound of a rushing stream.
Scott paused to listen, but instantly his sister laid an imperious hand upon him.
"I can't wait," she said. "I am sure he is just round the corner. I heard him whistle."
He moved on in response to her insistence. "I heard that whistle too," he said. "But it was a mountain-boy."
He was right. At a curve in the road, they met a young Swiss lad who went by them with a smile and salute, and fell to whistling again when he had passed.
Isabel pressed on in silence. She had started in feverish haste, but her speed was gradually slackening. She looked neither to right nor left; her eyes perpetually strained forward as though they sought for something just beyond their range of vision. For a while Scott limped beside her without speaking, but at last as they sighted the end of the pine-wood he gently broke the silence.
"Isabel dear, I think we must turn back very soon."
"Oh, why?" she said. "Why? You always say that when—" There came a break in her voice, and she ceased to speak.
Her pace quickened so that he had some difficulty in keeping up with her, but he made no protest. With the utmost patience he also pressed on.
But it was not long before her strength began to fail. She stumbled once or twice, and he put a supporting hand under her elbow. As they neared the edge of the pines it became evident that the road dwindled to a mere mountain-path winding steeply upwards through the snow. The sun shone dazzlingly upon the great waste of whiteness.
Very suddenly Isabel stopped. "He can't have gone this way after all," she said, and turned to her brother with eyes of tragic hopelessness. "Stumpy, Stumpy, what shall I do?"
He drew her hand very gently through his arm. "We will go back, dear," he said.
A low sob escaped her, but she did not weep. "If I only had the strength to go on and on and on!" she said. "I know I should find him some day then."
"You will find him some day," he answered with grave assurance. "But not yet."
They went back to the turn in the road where the sound of the stream rose like fairy music from an unseen glen. The snow lay pure and untrodden under the trees.
Scott paused again, and this time Isabel made no remonstrance. They stood together listening to the rush of the torrent.
"How beautiful this place must be in springtime!" he said.
She gave a sharp shiver. "It is like a dead world now."
"A world that will very soon rise again," he answered.
She looked at him with vague eyes. "You are always talking of the resurrection," she said.
"When I am with you, I am often thinking of it," he said with simplicity.
A haunted look came into her face. "But that implies—death," she said, her voice very low.
"And what is Death?" said Scott gently, as if he reasoned with a child. "Do you think it is more than a step further into Life? The passing of a boundary, that is all."
"But there is no returning!" she protested piteously. "It must be more than that."
"My dear, there is never any returning," he said gravely. "None of us can go backwards. Yesterday is but a step away, but can we retrace
