Nevertheless, Carley was glad Flo Hutter had been there, and always she
would be grateful to her for that kindness.
Carley disrobed and, donning her dressing gown, she unpacked her bags and
hung her things upon pegs under the curtained shelves. Then she lay down to
rest, with no intention of slumber. But there was a strange magic in the
fragrance of the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and in the feel of the
bed, and especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur of the waterfall. She
fell asleep. When she awakened it was five o'clock. The fire in the stove
was out, but the water was still warm. She bathed and dressed, not without
care, yet as swiftly as was her habit at home; and she wore white because
Glenn had always liked her best in white. But it was assuredly not a gown
to wear in a country house where draughts of cold air filled the unheated
rooms and halls. So she threw round her a warm sweater-shawl, with colorful
bars becoming to her dark eyes and hair.
All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to be
permeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment of
waking life there at Lolomi Lodge, or perhaps of slumber hours, could be
wholly free of that sound.
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