of us."
She made a sudden, almost fierce gesture. "Oh, to go back!" she cried. "Oh, to go back! Why should we be forced blindly forward when we only want to go back?"
"That is the universal law," said Scott. "That is God's Will."
"It is cruel! It is cruel!" she wailed.
"No, it is merciful. So long as there is Death in the world we must go on. We have got to get past Death."
She turned her tragic eyes upon him. "And what then? What then?"
Scott was gazing steadfastly into her face of ravaged beauty. "Then—the resurrection," he said. "There are millions of people in the world, Isabel, who are living out their lives solely for the sake of that, because they know that if they only keep on, the Resurrection will give back to them all that they have lost. My dear, it is not going back that could help anyone. The past is past, the present is passing; there is only the future that can restore all things. We are bound to go forward, and thank God for it!"
Her eyes fell slowly before his. She did not speak, but after a moment gave him her hand with a shadowy smile. They continued the descent side by side.
Another curve of the road brought them within sight of the hotel.
Scott broke the silence. "Here is Eustace coming to meet us!"
She looked up with a start, and into her face came a curious, veiled expression, half furtive, half afraid.
"Don't tell him, Stumpy!" she said quickly.
"What, dear?"
"Don't tell him I have been looking for Basil this morning. He—he wouldn't understand. And—and—you know—I must look for him sometimes. I shall lose him altogether if I don't."
"Shall we pretend we are enjoying ourselves?" said Scott with a smile.
She answered him with feverish earnestness. "Yes—yes! Let us do that!
And, Stumpy, Stumpy dear, you are good, you can pray. I can't, you know.
Will you—will you pray sometimes—that I may find him?"
"I shall pray that your eyes may be opened, Isabel," he answered, "so that you may know you have never really lost him."
She smiled again, her fleeting, phantom smile. "Don't pray for the impossible, Stumpy!" she said. "I—I think that would be a mistake."
"Is anything impossible?" said Scott.
He raised his hand before she could make any answer, and sent a cheery holloa down to his brother who waved a swift response. They quickened their steps to meet him.
Eustace was striding up the hill with the easy swing of a giant. He held out both hands to Isabel as he drew near. She pulled herself free from Scott, and went to him as one drawn by an unseen force.
"Ah, that's right," he said, and bent to kiss her. "I'm glad you've been for a walk. But you might have come and spoken to me first. I was only on the rink."
"I didn't want to see a lot of people," said Isabel, shrinking a little.
"I—I don't like so many strangers, Eustace."
"Oh, nonsense!" he said lightly. "You have been buried too long. It's time you came out of your shell. I shan't take you home again till you have quite got over that."
His tone was kindly but it held authority. Isabel attempted no protest. Only she looked away over the sparkling world of white and blue with something near akin to despair in her eyes.
Scott took out his cigarette-case, and handed it to his brother.
"Isabel's birthday present to me!" he said.
Eustace examined it with a smile. "Very nice! Did you think of it all by yourself, Isabel?"
"No," she said with dreary listlessness. "Biddy reminded me."
Eustace's face changed. He frowned slightly and gave the case back to his brother.
"Have a cigarette!" said Scott.
He took one absently, and Scott did the same.
"How did you get on with the lady in red?" he asked.
Eustace threw him a glance half-humorous, half-malicious. "If it comes to that, how did you get on with the little brown girl?"
"Oh, very nicely," smiled Scott. "Her name is Dinah. Your lady's name is
Rose de Vigne, if you care to know."
"Really?" said Eustace. "And who told you that?"
"Dinah, of course, or Dinah's brother. I forget which. They belong to the same party."
"I should think that little snub-nosed person feels somewhat in the shade," observed Eustace.
"I expect she does. But she has plenty of wits to make up for it. She seems to find life quite an interesting entertainment."
"She can't skate a bit," said Eustace.
"Can't she? You'll have to give her a hint or two. I am sure she would be very grateful."
"Did she tell you so?"
"I'm not going to tell you what she told me. It wouldn't be fair."
Eustace laughed with easy tolerance. "Oh, I've no objection to giving her a hand now and then if she's amusing, and doesn't become a nuisance. I'm not going to let myself be bored by anybody this trip. I'm out for sport only."
"It's a lovely place," observed Scott.
"Oh, perfect. I'm going to ski this afternoon. How do you like it,
Isabel?"
Abruptly the elder brother accosted her. She was walking between them as one in a dream. She started at the sound of her name.
"I don't know yet," she said. "It is rather cold, isn't it? I—I am not sure that I shall be able to sleep here."
Eustace's eyes held hers for a moment. "Oh, no one expects to sleep here," he said lightly. "You skate all day and dance all night. That's the programme."
Her lips parted a little. "I—dance!" she said.
"Why not?" said Eustace.
She made a gesture that was almost expressive of horror. "When I dance," she said, in her deep voice, "you may put me under lock and key for good and all, for I shall be mad indeed."
"Don't be silly!" he said sharply.
She shrank as if at a blow, and on the instant very quietly Scott intervened. "Isabel and I prefer to look on," he said, drawing her hand gently through his arm. "I fancy it suits us both best."
His eyes met his brother's
