But a flash of recognition came to the other face.
"How do you do, Fulvia?"
"Ethel!" Fulvia could hardly believe her own senses. At the first moment an impatient throb shook her frame; for Ethel was Fulvia's dread. Thought for the altered girl before her followed quickly. "Ethel! I did not know you! Have you been ill?"
"Not ill lately. Not very well, I suppose. I don't get up much strength somehow. Is it not a perfect day?"
Fulvia stood still. She did not want a companion—Ethel Elvey least of all! Still she could not at once pass on. She was not personally fond of Ethel, and never had been; but their acquaintance dated from infant days, and Fulvia was kind-hearted. It was impossible not to pause, in view of Ethel's changed look.
"Daisy said something—" she began, and broke off. "I know you had scarlatina; but that is so long ago."
"Ages—isn't it?" Ethel said, smiling. "And I have been an immense time in the country since, doing nothing. Yes, in North Wales. Snowdon is so beautiful. There is nothing in the world like mountains. They seem to bring one nearer heaven?'
"Are you talking poetically?"
"Am I? No; I don't think so."
"Did you go up Snowdon?"