At last, when the veins of the summer were hot and swollen, and the juices of all the poison-plants and the blood of all the creatures that feed upon them had grown thick and strong,—­about the time when the second mowing was in hand, and the brown, wet-faced men were following up the scythes as they chased the falling waves of grass, (falling as the waves fall on sickle-curved beaches; the foam-flowers dropping as the grass-flowers drop,—­with sharp semivowel consonantal sounds,—­frsh,—­for that is the way the sea talks, and leaves all pure vowel-sounds for the winds to breathe over it, and all mutes to the unyielding earth,)—­about this time of over-ripe midsummer, the life of Elsie seemed fullest of its malign and restless instincts.  This was the period of the year when the Rockland people were most cautious of wandering in the leafier coverts which skirted the base of The Mountain, and the farmers liked to wear thick, long boots, whenever they went into the bushes.  But Elsie was never so much given to roaming over The Mountain as at this season; and as she had grown more absolute and uncontrollable, she was as like to take the night as the day for her rambles.

At this season, too, all her peculiar tastes in dress and ornament came out in a more striking way than at other times.  She was never so superb as then, and never so threatening in her scowling beauty.  The barred skirts she always fancied showed sharply beneath her diaphanous muslins; the diamonds often glittered on her breast as if for her own pleasure rather than to dazzle others; the asp-like bracelet hardly left her arm.  She was never seen without some necklace,—­either the golden cord she wore at the great party, or a chain of mosaics, or simply a ring of golden scales.  Some said that Elsie always slept in a necklace, and that when she died she was to be buried in one.  It was a fancy of hers,—­but many thought there was a reason for it.

Nobody watched Elsie with a more searching eye than her cousin, Dick Venner.  He had kept more out of her way of late, it is true, but there was not a movement she made which he did not carefully observe just so far as he could without exciting her suspicion.  It was plain enough to him that the road to fortune was before him, and that the first thing was to marry Elsie.  What course he should take with her, or with others interested, after marrying her, need not be decided in a hurry.

He had now done all he could expect to do at present in the way of conciliating the other members of the household.  The girl’s father tolerated him, if he did not even like him.  Whether he suspected his project or not Dick did not feel sure; but it was something to have got a foothold in the house, and to have overcome any prepossession against him which his uncle might have entertained.  To be a good listener and a bad billiard-player was not a very great sacrifice to effect this object.  Then old Sophy could hardly help feeling well-disposed towards him, after the gifts he had bestowed on her and the court he had paid her.  These were the only persons on the place of much importance to gain over.  The people employed about the house and farm-lands had little to do with Elsie, except to obey her without questioning her commands.