At the finish the girls loudly applauded the efforts of this picturesque crew, and after a short breathing spell they again took the floor and danced until sheer exhaustion forced them to quit. Mopping their dripping faces with big red bandannas, they trooped boisterously outside.
Near midnight the rain ceased, and as Donald walked with Janet to her cabin the moon came suddenly from behind a dark wall of clouds to set the lake sparkling under its soft light.
“Too wonderful a night to sleep,” said Janet softly.
“Shall we walk to the lake?” asked Donald.
She nodded assent.
They stood near the edge of the lake in the light of the moon and looked across at the towering snow-fields etched against the star-spangled sky. There were lights still shining from the big room they had just vacated, and the night-watchman’s lantern bobbed jerkily as he made his rounds. Across the lake the light from the trapper’s cabin shone on the calm surface of the water. The faint, weird call of a loon wafted to their ears was echoed and re-echoed in soft cadences from the surrounding hills. A faint breath of wind came out of the rain-washed forest, laden with the sweet perfume of earth and flowers, and caressed their faces like loving fingers. Donald took a deep breath that seemed more like a sigh.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” He indicated with a sweep of his arm the lake, the wooded hills and the glittering glaciers lifting their heads high to the sparkling firmament. He turned to find his companion standing with downcast eyes.
“Don’t you like it?” he asked, a trifle resentfully.
Janet raised her head slowly. The limpid depths of the big brown eyes were soft and languorous in the half-light; the full red lips were dewy and tremulous; the peaceful light of the moon shone upon her radiant upturned face, giving it an ethereal glow.
“It is wonderful,” she breathed.