The scene was too tempting.
Gloria put on her fur jacket and hood and walked forth to the “Neck.”
She found the tide at its lowest ebb and the road to the main high and dry.
She set off to walk across it. It was the first time she had ever done so. The “Neck,” indeed, was a natural bridge of rock connecting the promontory to the main and affording an excellent roadway when the tide was low, but quite impassable, being at least six feet under water when the tide was high.
It was very low now and the path was very clear.
Gloria walked on, so inspired by the glory and gladness of the sun, the sky, the sea, the woods that her spirits soared like a bird, and, like a bird, broke forth in song.
She sang as she walked. The way was long but joyous with light and beauty, even though the season was near mid-winter.
At length she reached the main and bent her step to the gorgeous woods, still wearing their regal autumn dress.
Gloria plunged into their depths and rambled and reveled in their delightful solitudes. The song birds had flown farther south, yet the air seemed full of jubilant music. Was it in the air or in her own spirit? She could not tell. She was so gay and glad! She wandered on and on, tempted by vistas of crimson, golden, and purple avenues, more graceful in form than classic arches.
At length she spied, at some distance off, in the deepest depths of the forest, a scene like a conflagration—a cluster of trees burning, glowing and sparkling like fire in the rays of the sun that struck down upon their tops.