oor of the hotel, woke, gazed about her unfamiliar surroundings,
sprang out of bed, and in her bare feet ran to the window. There before
her was a magnificent group of mountains, wooded with majestic trees
whose tops seemed to touch the sky. Beneath the mountains, just at their
feet, a river ran, the sun dancing on its breast. Suzanna held her
breath in sheer awe; she could not move even to call Maizie. She felt as
though something great out there in the mountains called to her spirit
and though she wished to answer she could not do so.

The tapestry spread below the mountains of water and green slopes and
velvet meadows sun-kissed too, called to her; the artist in her was
keenly, deeply responsive to the call, still she could not answer, only
stand and gaze and gaze, and drink in the beauty that stretched before
her.

Then old Nancy came with hurrying words, waking Maizie. "We can stay in
this town but two hours before our train is due," she said. "So you must
dress at once, Suzanna."

So Suzanna dressed in silence, answering none of Maizie's chatter, as
though she had been in a far, unexplored country and had returned
steeped in the mysteries of that distant land.

Her silence still lay upon her when after breakfast they all set out for
a walk around the historic old town. There were babies, happy, dirty
babies, playing about doorsteps of one-storied plaster houses, or
toddling about the cobble-stoned roads.

The streets were narrow and steep, the roads wide with moss edged in
between the wide cracks. Suzanna kept her eyes down; she would not look
up at the mountains, and finally Mr. Bartlett, noticing her silence,
asked: "Do you like it here, Suzanna?"

"Yes," she said. "But I can't look at the mountains. They take my breath
away and make me stand still inside. Maybe some day I'll be able to look
straight at them, but not now, and some day when I'm a woman I'm going
to come back here and make a poem and set it to a wonderful painting."

He smiled at the way she put it.

"And I," said Maizie, "am going to come back and take care of some of
those poor little babies that play alone out on the cobble-stones."

"We'll see," said Mr. Bartlett. "Time alone can tell what you two little
girls will do."

Returning to the hotel they found vehicles awaiting them. And shortly
they were again on a train, speeding away.

Three hours, and they were at their destination. A short ride in an
electric car, a shorter walk do