Betsy gave her a gentle shake. “Brace up, Rosalie. Don’t be such a trembling little bird. Your soul’s your own.—Oh, my! Isn’t that wonderful!” For the geyser now burst forth with a rushing volume of water which rose and arched across the river at a height of eighty feet.
Betsy and Rosalie hastened down the bank beyond the crowd, where they had a full view of the aerial waterfall sparkling in the sunshine as it plunged foaming into the river.
When the exhilarating show was over, Betsy turned to her companion.
“There! Ain’t that worth a good bit o’ sacrifice to see?”
The girl’s hands were clasped on her breast, and her eyes shining.
“You look as admirin’ as a chipmunk,” said Betsy; and they both laughed.
“Oh, supposing we were alone out here, Betsy! Wouldn’t it be beautiful!” sighed the girl.
“’Twould, as sure as you’re born; but we ain’t bondholders, so we have to work our way, both of us; and it’s worth it. That’s what I say, and that’s what I want you to feel.”
“I wouldn’t mind if no one else minded,” said Rosalie meekly.