fairy rings,
_alias_ glacier meadows, which they had seen in higher places, only this
was a fairy ring on a grander scale. It seemed so hidden by a belt of
mountains that its green lawns, its gardens, its fountains and flowers
might have been originally discovered only by some happy accident. But the
discoverer being of a practical turn of mind, he or his descendants had
built a delightful though unobtrusive hotel on a spot which might still
have been warm from the fairies. On the veranda of the hotel was Kate,
beaming with smiles of welcome as the buckboard coming down from Glacier
Point brought her mistress in sight.

"Oh, it was a lovely place!" said Kate. And sure, how happy she and Timmy
were to be there at last. She had arrived hours ago, and was nicely
rested, yes, thank you, ma'am.

There were saucers of white violets, and vases of iris and Washington
lilies in Mrs. May's bedroom. Here were no embarrassing complications
connected with "Mr." May and "Mrs." Hilliard. All was peace; and as the
dust which had turned Angela's golden hair to silver was being brushed
away by Kate, the tale of the maid's adventures was unfolded. Yet Angela,
smiling gently, as she inhaled the sweetness of violets, hardly listened.
She was glad that Kate was almost well and that Timmy was restored to the
bosom of his family. But it seemed to her that no one except herself had
had any adventures worth the name. No one else could ever have adventures
half as good! Even she--no, not for her could their like come again. She
began to grudge the passing of the hours, wishing that she had the power
to stop all the clocks of the world.

XXV

THE BROKEN MELODY

"I want to write things in my diary," said Angela. "Now, lest I forget or
they change colour. I want to write here, so that afterward, when I read
the page I may see the pictures."

They were in the palace of the giant redwoods, she and Nick, and several
robins and chipmunks. They had been there all day, and soon it would be
sunset. Then the moon would come to light them home. They would leave the
palace, and the Best Day would end.

They had lunched and dined with a huge fallen log for a table, and
squirrels for their honoured guests. Now they had come back (carrying out
a plan made in the morning) to sit under the Grizzly Giant, king of the
great Sequoias, and there watch the sun setting. The Giant seemed to know
all they were doing and saying. Not only that, but what the