"Have you met any one yet?" inquired her mother. "Don't have to. I know what they are by just looking at them." "L'enfant prodige!" jeered Max. A tall, very fine-looking man in riding togs passed them, with a swift look at Isabelle. "That's Cartel, isn't it?" Wally asked. "The actor man?" said Max, looking after him. "Actor-manager he calls himself now. Good-looking brute, isn't he?" answered Wally, idly. Isabelle seemed oblivious to the whole incident but privately she marked Sidney Cartel as her own. She went off, shortly, to change. "Why don't you ride with her, Wally? She oughtn't to go off around these mountains alone." "Too hot. She can take care of herself." "Which way did Mr. Cartel go?" Isabelle inquired of the stable groom who mounted her. "Sunrise Trail, Miss," he answered. Isabelle started off for Sunrise Trail, with the directness of purpose which marked all her actions. It was some time before she caught sight of him, and to her annoyance she saw he was with a party of friends. Whenever the trail permitted he rode beside a certain woman--leaning toward her with marked devotion. Isabelle brought up the rear of the procession. The others became aware of her, evidently commented on her. Mr. Cartel looked back frequently. When Isabelle came to a place wide enough to turn she retraced her steps. She went back to the inn determined to discover who Mr. Cartel's special companion was. The groom furnished it, for a price: "Mrs. Andrews was with him, Miss. She mostly is." Saturday night was the weekly hop, the most festive occasion of the week. Max had given Isabelle orders that she could not sit up for dances, as she was still a schoolgirl. The girl made no protest. "Hops don't interest me," she said, indifferently. After dinner she took a few turns on the piazza with Wally before she went to bed. She wore an odd, white crepe frock, which hung very close. Her hair was bound round her head like a cap. "Let's sneak in and have the first dance together," said Wally; "Max has a beau." "All right; then I'll skip," agreed Isabelle. With the first strains of music they swung into a waltz. They danced well, and enjoyed it. "Go to bed," ordered Max as she passed them. Isabelle saw Mr. Cartel idly glance in, then at sight of her he came to the door and watched them. "Some dance, Miss Bryce. Much obliged. Sorry you have to leave us," said Wally as the dance was over. Cartel strolled off down the hall, and a few seconds later she followed him. She saw him saunter into one of the many little rooms used for cards, or tea. She noticed it was not lighted and, on the impulse of the moment, she stepped in after him. In a second she was caught and lifted in strong arms. She was kissed again and again, while he said laughingly: "You little devil, you came after all." "I wonder who you are," said Isabelle sweetly, "and who you think I am." "Thunder!" said Mr. Cartel, holding her off, and trying to peer at her.