So, without pausing to cast for trout, or even to go down to the stream, she returned home; where Myra Willard, seeing her come so early and empty handed, wondered.

But to the woman's question, the girl only answered that she had changed her mind--that, after recovering her gloves and fly-book at the camp of their friends, she had decided to come home.

The woman with the disfigured face, knowing that Aaron King was leaving the hills the next day, thought that she understood the girl's mood, and wisely made no comment.
The artist and Conrad Lagrange went to spend their last evening in the hills with their friends.

Brian Oakley, too, dropped in.

But neither of the three men mentioned the name of James Rutlidge in the presence of the women; while Sibyl was, apparently, again her own bright and happy self--carrying on a fanciful play of words with the novelist, singing with the artist, and making music for them all with her violin.