They had taken a slight breakfast before making their climb, and decided not to stop for anything more till they had gone a little further on where they could find shelter in case of a shower, so after they had been joined by those waiting half-way they did not tarry to rest but continued the downward path.
They had scarcely gone many rods before they met a party of people going up; two men and two young women, the former in spotless flannels and neatly polished shoes, the latter in fresh white frocks, rose-wreathed hats and filmy veils. They looked very natty and fine. As they passed they gave supercilious stares at the company of girls in stout shoes, farmer hats and flannel blouses.
“But, oh, dear me,” said Jo to Nan, “what a get up for the mountains. Do they think they are at Bar Harbor, forsooth, or do they expect to find a hotel around the next boulder? Imagine what they will look like when they have gone through brambles and thickets and over dewy grass. I shouldn’t like to pay their laundry bills.”
“It’s raining,” exclaimed Florence as the first fugitive drops began to patter. “What did I say?”
“Oh, Floss, we can stand the rain better than we can your torrent of I-told-you-sos,” said Carrie.
“Who cares if it does rain?” queried Jo. “We aren’t wearing white frocks and rosebud hats. If you want to hear any growling, I would advise seeking that party of silly-billies who have just passed us. It won’t matter if we do get wet.” But by the time they had reached their camping place of the night before the rain was coming down in good earnest and they were glad to seek shelter in a little hut not far off.
“You can at least be under cover there,” Miss Lloyd told them. “We must have something to eat first thing, for I am sure you are all half starved with nothing but sandwiches since before dawn. I will make some coffee and fry some bacon, so you can have a little something hot.”
“Where? There’s no chimney in here,” said Florence. The girls stood peeping into the little cabin which was open to them.
“You’ll see. Go in, go in. You look like a flock of drabbled hens standing before a hen-coop,” Miss Lloyd laughed. “Shoo! Shoo!”
The girls skurried in out of the wet to find a very primitive sort of house with earthen floor and rough log sides. A couple of benches and a stool were all the furniture. A small window let in the light on one side.