that name. The mountains seem cleft in twain. It's
a marvellous effect--startling! It took my breath away, as if I had
seen a great window suddenly flung wide open in the sky. Truly, that's
not an exaggeration of the sunset-wonder of the Delaware Water Gap! The
hills were a deep, almost sullen purple that evening, the purple of
darkest hyacinths. They made a high wall for the valley; then, in an
instant, the wall was gone, as if hewed down with a firm, straight
stroke, and there was that immense open window of golden light. Why, it
was worth crossing the ocean to see as we saw it then! And we had come
through such winding ways of hill and valley that it felt as if this
were the end of the earth, the jumping-off place into a sea of jewelled
colour. Yet they say it's only three or four hours in a fast train from
New York! I don't want to believe that, and I shall never know by
experience, for I shan't be so sacrilegious as to take a train while
motors run on roads and aeroplanes skim through clouds.

The town where the hotels and cottages are is as gay a little fairyland
among the mountains as I used to think Baden-Baden or Carlsbad; just
such maddeningly attractive little shops and bright gardens and
beautifully grouped trees. We went on to a hotel in the woods, a hotel
which seemed all veranda and view--a view our spirits drank in, in deep,
unforgettable draughts: I mean, Jack's and mine drank. They were the
only well-regulated, calm spirits in the whole procession, except the
Goodriches, who are "always merry and bright."

When darkness fell in a shimmering blue curtain shot with silver, we
found that the hotel had other things besides those two "Vs" which were
all we had thought of at first: very nice, pleasant things, and Jack and
I decided that it wouldn't be wrong or selfish to the war, or each
other, to let ourselves feel perfectly happy for a few serene hours. But
it wasn't to be! Far from it--Fate has such a rude way of ignoring my
plans and substituting her own, which are seldom a patch on mine!

I "got myself up to kill" for dinner, and thought Pat intended to do the
same. Being made in the Creator's image, I like to look as nice as I
can, to do Him credit, even when travelling, especially in large hotels
full of other women. But Pat didn't appear. Neither did Larry. My eyes
and Jack's conspired across the table. "Good!" we thought. "The Plot
works!"

We couldn't tell by what process it worked, but that it