generally--the Great Spirit was naturally associated with its inevitable
legendary Indian love story. But when Aunt Isabel carelessly suggested
that Missy, next summer, go to Colorado with her, how the local
metropolis dwindled; how little and simple, though pretty, of course,
appeared Rocky Ford.

Colorado quivered before her in images supernal. Colorado! Enchantment
in the very name! And mountains, and eternal snow upon the peaks,
and spraying waterfalls, and bright-painted gardens of the gods--oh,
ecstasy!

And going with Aunt Isabel! Aunt Isabel was young, beautiful, and
delightful. Aunt Isabel went to Colorado every summer!

But a whole year! That is, in truth, a long time and can bring forth
much that is unforeseen, amazing, revolutionizing. Especially when one
is sixteen and beginning really to know life.

Missy had always found life in Cherryvale absorbing. The past had been
predominantly tinged with the rainbow hues of dreams; with the fine,
vague, beautiful thoughts that "reading" brings, and with such delicious
plays of fancy as lend witchery to a high white moon, an arched blue
sky, or rolling prairies-even to the tranquil town and the happenings of
every day. Nothing could put magic into the humdrum life of school, and
here she must struggle through another whole year of it before she might
reach Colorado. That was a cloud, indeed, for one who wasn't "smart"
like Beulah Crosswhite. Mathematics Missy found an inexplicable,
unalloyed torture; history for all its pleasingly suggestive glimpses of
a spacious past, laid heavy taxes on one not good at remembering dates.
But Missy was about to learn to take a more modern view of high school
possibilities. Shortly before school opened Cousin Pete came to see his
grandparents in Cherryvale. Perhaps Pete's filial devotion was due to
the fact that Polly Currier resided in Cherryvale; Polly was attending
the State University where Pete was a "Post-Grad." Missy listened to
Cousin Pete's talk of college life with respect, admiration, and some
unconscious envy. There was one word that rose, like cream on milk,
or oil on water, or fat on soup, inevitably to the surface of his
conversation. "Does Polly Currier like college?" once inquired Missy,
moved by politeness to broach what Pete must find an agreeable subject.
"Naturally," replied Pete, with the languor of an admittedly superior
being. "She's prominent." The word, "prominent," as uttered by him had
more than impre