Fortunately for Janet’s peace of mind, none of her friends had recognized in the photograph of the new champion of Canada the handsome young man they had met at her home. They were puzzled by her decision to spend a holiday in the wilds until she casually mentioned that Mr. McLean was arranging for their entertainment, and she accepted with a smile the sly teasing that followed.
The party arrived by special train a day earlier than originally planned, and as Janet stepped to the platform Donald was for a moment disconcerted by the warmth of her greeting and the softness in her eyes as they rested on him.
That afternoon Connie came riding down the hill holding in her hand an enormous bouquet of Alpine flowers. She leaped from her horse and ran blithely around the corner of the big building. Andy, dressed in white coat and hat, came smilingly forward to meet her.
“Andy, here are some rare flowers Dad sent for——” She ceased speaking abruptly as Donald, leading Janet and her friends from a tour of the kitchen, came through the door.
Donald’s face lighted with a glad smile as he saw Connie.
“Miss Rennie, I want you to meet Miss Wainwright.”
Connie’s face burned with embarrassment as all eyes turned toward her, and the mass of wild flowers held crushed to her breast quivered as though shaken by a breeze. She glanced about her quickly, strongly tempted to flee the spot.
For a moment the society belle and the girl of the mountains eyed each other silently. Janet stared at Connie as if she were some strange creature unclassified by science. Connie for the first time was gazing on a stylishly-clad member of her own sex. Janet’s dress of white silk shimmered in the sunshine, and her broad-brimmed white hat, with lining of pale rose, gave to her beautiful face a ruddy glow.
Connie’s eyes roved in admiring awe from the neat high-heeled shoes to the silken hose and skirt, and then to the flowered hat set jauntily on thick shining coils of dark hair.
There was a certain dewy freshness, a native frankness, about the girl of the woods that made Janet appear artificial. Their eyes met, and Connie’s lips parted in a timid smile, revealing two rows of perfect milk-white teeth and forming two tiny dimples in her brown cheeks. Her lonely heart longed for the friendship of this wonderful girl, but the smile quickly faded when she saw that Janet’s eyes remained cold and appraising.