ts of alders
glittered with coral-red berries. Apple-trees loaded with small crimson
apples made spots of color on the hill-side. Wild-flowers grew thickly
in damp spots, and mosses clustered among the stones. Birds chirped and
flew from every bush and tree. All was shaded and peaceful and still.
Newport, with its whirl and glitter, seemed immeasurably far away. The
Paradise Valley might to all appearance have been hidden in the heart of
the Alleghanies, instead of being within three miles of the gayest
watering-place in America!

Mrs. Gray, with accustomed feet, led the way straight across the glade
to where an old cedar-tree stood commanding the oceanward view, with a
square block of stone at its foot.

"This is where we used always to come," she said, in a dreamy voice.

"What a delicious place!" cried Julia; "to think that I should have
spent seven summers in Newport and never have seen it before! What shall
we do with the baskets, Mrs. Gray, dear?"

"Put them here in the shade, and when you all feel hungry we will open
them."

"Hungry! why, I am as hungry as a wolf at this moment. I have a gift at
being ravenous. Girls, what do you say? Don't you agree with me that no
time is like the present time for lunch? Hold up your hands if you do."

"Very well," said Mrs. Gray, laughing, as every hand flew up. "We will
have lunch at once, then; but I warn you that there is a good deal to be
done first. There," pointing to a blackened spot against a rock, "is
where we always boiled our kettle. If some of you will collect some dry
sticks, we will see if the present generation is capable of making a
fire. I meanwhile will fetch the water."

She took a bright little copper kettle from one of the baskets, and
mounted the hill with elastic footsteps, calling out, as she went,--

"Make haste, and be sure that the sticks are dry."

"I'm not sure that I know a dry stick when I see it," whispered Maud
Hallett to Julia; but instinct, as often happens, took the place of
experience on this occasion, and Mrs. Gray found quite a respectable
pile of fuel awaiting her when she came back with her kettle full of
spring water.

"Now I will show you how to swing a pot over the fire," she said; and in
three minutes a rustic crane of boughs was constructed, the kettle was
hanging from it, and the wood piled artistically underneath. A box of
matches appeared from Mrs. Gray's pocket, which; as Marian said, was
every bit as good as the "B