This question is addressed to the assembled party the day after our return to Asheville. The drive from Alexander’s was very pleasant, and the next day is brilliantly clear—so clear that Eric says: “If we were only on the Black, what a view we should have!” “How far is it to the Black?” asks Aunt Markham, with a sigh. “Can we go and return in a day?” “My dear mother, what are you thinking of?” says Eric. “It is a day’s journey from here to the foot of the mountain. Then it takes the best part of the next day to ascend it; and when you are once on top you are very willing to spend the night there.” “Spend the night!—where?” “In a cave.” “Eric!” “I am not joking, I assure you—Charley will tell you that I am not. It is a very good shelter, and balsam-boughs make a capital bed.” “A cave!—balsam-boughs!” Aunt Markham looks so sincerely and utterly overwhelmed that most of us cannot restrain a laugh. “It can’t be possible, Eric,” she says majestically, “that you expect _me_ to go on such an expedition as that?” “Honestly, I don’t think you would be likely to enjoy it,” replies Eric candidly. “You had better stay here, perhaps, while the rest of us go.” This proposal is not received so easily as it is made. Aunt Markham looks still more majestic. “You forget that there ought to be a chaperon in such a party,” she says. “I’m chaperon enough,” answers Eric, coolly. “Haven’t I been taking care of Alice and Sylvia all their lives, and can’t I take care of them on the Black Mountain? But, if it will set your mind at rest on the propriety question, Mrs. Cardigan talks of accompanying us.” “I disapprove of Mrs. Cardigan,” is on the tip of Aunt Markham’s tongue, but she does not utter the words. The propriety question must, she thinks, be considered, and even the shadow of a chaperon is sometimes better than none. “I suppose you invited her to join our party?” says Charley to Eric. “On the contrary, she invited herself,” he answers quietly. “It was fortunate, perhaps, since I suppose she will do for a chaperon—eh, mother?” “I think she stands very much in need of one herself,” says Aunt Markham, severely. Notwithstanding this unfavorable opinion, the matter is settled as Eric suggested. The idea of ascending a mountain on horseback, and spending the night in a cave, is more than Aunt Markham’s philosophy is able to endure. “Twenty-five years ago I might have done such a thing,” she says, “but now—” “I’d like of all things to see mother mounted on a horse,” remarks Rupert, with a burst of laughter. “You are an undutiful boy to wish to make game of your own mother—and you will never be gratified,” says Aunt Markham. Later in the day Mrs. Cardigan joins us, and we discuss the details of the expedition. “The first essentials,” says Eric, “are to provide ourselves with plenty to eat and plenty to wear. Unless we are careful on those points, we shall suffer with hunger and cold.”