In a sudden collapse into deep depression she sought Miss Watts and hurried her downstairs. No signs of him in the breakfast room. Later she led Miss Watts up and down every veranda, but a complete survey of the grounds brought no results.
“We ought not to exercise so violently right after breakfast, Isabelle. Let us sit down in the shade for a little.”
Isabelle agreed; it did not matter to her what they did just now, and these seats gave a view of every one who came out of the hotel.
“What shall we do to-day?” inquired Miss Watts.
“Oh—I don’t know”—indifferently.
Some people were coming out now. A tall woman, a girl, and a boy. The girl stared at Isabelle and then advanced.
“Aren’t you Isabelle Bryce?” she asked.
“Why, Agnes Pollock!” exclaimed Isabelle.
Introductions and explanations followed. The girls had known each other at Hill Top School. Agnes was convalescing from an appendicitis operation. She was with her mother and her brother, who greeted Isabelle cordially.