A ONE-SIDED STORY
Adrian was not a gymnast though he had seen and admired many wonderful feats performed by his own classmates. But he had never beheld a miracle, and such he believed had been accomplished when, upon reaching the foot of that terrible tree, he found Margot sitting beneath it, pale and shaken, but, apparently, unhurt.
She had heard his breathless crashing up the slope and greeted him with a smile, and the tremulous question:
“How did you know where I was?”
“You aren’t—dead?”
“Certainly not. I might have been, though, but God took care.”
“Was it my cheers frightened you?”
“Was it you, then? I heard something, different from the wood sounds, and I looked quick to see. Then my foot slipped and I went down—a way. I caught a branch just in time and, please, don’t tell uncle. I’d rather do that myself.”
“You should never do such a thing. The idea of a girl climbing trees at all, least of any, such a tree as that!”
He threw his head back and looked upward, through the green spiral to the brilliant sky. The enormous height revived the horror he had felt as he leaped through the window and rushed to the mountain.