“I cannot understand,” she said, in a voice of scorn, “why you should so maliciously insult Miss Gladstone; but allow me to say for your enlightenment, that these chairs, rugs, and so forth, belong to my brother, Mr. Ralph Meredith, and he arranged them here especially for Miss Gladstone’s and my comfort. However, I will emulate her example, and resign my right to ladies who have proved themselves so superior in point of _refinement_ and _politeness_.” Having uttered this cutting sarcasm, Miss Meredith bowed mockingly and walked away to rejoin her friend, leaving those haughty and overbearing women about as chagrined and crestfallen as it is possible for two people to feel. The gay company reached their destination after a delightful sail of two hours. It was a lovely grove upon the shore of the bay, which people were in the habit of frequenting for picnics of this sort, and the party wandered about in groups for another two hours, exploring the beauties and attractions around them. At two o’clock everybody gathered to dine in a place which had been prepared for that purpose; the tables were spread with the contents of the numerous baskets, which contained every delicacy which the season afforded, and the gay company, making the woods resonant with laughter and merriment, sat down to their rural meal. It was four in the afternoon before this important part in the day’s programme was concluded, and then the company scattered, some to lounge about and rest, others to stroll into the deep, inviting shadows of the woods. Mr. Rosevelt and Star, Miss Meredith and her brother, with two or three others, wandered away by themselves, and finally sat down beneath a wide-spreading tree for a quiet chat. While they sat there, Star got up quietly and slipped out of sight, some spirit of restlessness possessing her to get away for a ramble still farther into the far-reaching woods. She had walked some distance, when she heard voices, and soon saw a gentleman and a lad, both with guns over their shoulders, approaching her, and looking heated and anxious. They saluted her courteously, and then the gentleman said, abruptly: “Have you seen anything of a small, white Spitz dog, miss? It is a pretty little creature, wearing a silver collar around his neck, and tiny blue bows tied in his ears.” “No,” Star answered; “I have seen no dog to-day.” “We are in search of it because we are afraid it has run mad,” the stranger continued, peering about with a troubled countenance. “It has not been well for several days, and this morning showed unmistakable signs of hydrophobia. It escaped confinement from the cottage, a mile or so from here, and ran toward these woods about an hour ago.” They passed on, and Star thought it would be best for her to go back to her friends, and therefore turned to retrace her steps.