I am above caring who
is near me. But it's horrid to be forced into such a position and I
wish I hadn't come. Goodness! how her tongue runs! And now what freak
sets her 'Oh-ing!' and 'Ah-ing!' that style?" ran Gwendolyn's
thoughts, and she showed her annoyance by asking:

"Miss Calvert, will you oblige me by not screaming quite so loud? It's
wretched form and gets on my nerves, for I'm not used to that sort of
thing."

"Neither am I!" laughed Dorothy; "but you see, I never saw anything
so lovely as that glimpse before. I couldn't help crying out--we came
upon it so suddenly. Do see yonder!"

Her finger pointed westward, then was promptly drawn back, as she
admitted:

"Pointing is 'bad form,' too, I've been taught. But do look--do look!
It's just like fairyland!"

Gwendolyn did look, though rather against her will, and paused, as
charmed as Dorothy, but in a quieter fashion. She was a considerable
artist and her gift in painting her one great talent. Oddly enough,
too, she cared less for the praise of others than for the delight of
handling her brush.

Beyond, a sudden break in the thick wood revealed a tumbling
waterfall, descending from a cliff by almost regular steps into a
sunlit pool below. Bordering it on both sides were trees of gorgeous
coloring and mountain ashes laden with their brilliant berries; while
a shimmering vapor rose from the pool beneath, half veiling the little
cascade, foaming white upon the rocks.

For a moment Gwendolyn regarded the scene in silence but with shining
eyes and parted lips. Then she exclaimed:

"The very spot we've searched for so often and never found! 'The
Maiden's Bath,' it's called. I've heard about it so much. The story is
that there was an Indian girl so lovely and pure that it was thought a
mortal sin for mortal eyes to look upon her. She had devoted herself
to the service of the Great Spirit and, to reward her, He formed this
beautiful Bath for her use alone, hid it so deep in the heart of the
forest that no one could find it but she. There was but one trail
which led to it and--we've found it, we've found it! Hurry up! Come."

Dorothy stared. Here seemed a new Gwendolyn, whose tongue ran quite as
rapidly as her own had ever done, and whose haughty face was now
transformed by eager delight. As the young artist ran forward toward
the spot, Dolly noticed that no other girl was in sight. They two had
turned a little aside from the smoother path which the rest had t