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. Fascinated by the vision, she made her way toward it, and found a clump of holly trees, thick with bright scarlet berries. “Oh, I must have some of these to decorate the house to-night,” she said, as she began to pull those that were in her reach. But when she had plucked all that hung low, she found that she had not enough for her purpose. “I cannot get any more, so I had better take these home and come back again and bring Laban to climb the trees for me, and get enough from the top branches.” With this resolve she turned and retraced her steps, but soon lost herself in the pathless woods, and wandered about for hours trying to find her way out of them. She had no fear whatever. She was sure that she should emerge safely some time or other. She only felt some little haste to get home time enough to bring Laban back for the holly. At length her confidence was justified. She caught a glimpse of the sea through a thinner growth of the woods, and, walking toward it, soon came out on the bank above the “Neck.” She descended quickly, and began to cross. No one in that neighborhood would have ventured to go over the “Neck” at such a time. It was in pure ignorance that Gloria did it. She did not even notice how much the Neck had narrowed since she crossed it four hours before, when the tide was at its lowest ebb, and was even then turning. It had been coming in ever since, and now there was but about four feet width of the road left in the middle of the Neck—abundant space for a foot-path if it should not narrow too rapidly. Gloria had not a thought of danger when she set out to recross the Neck. She walked on, singing as she went, and if a wave higher than usual dashed quite across her path, why, it fell back immediately, only wetting her shoes and skirts a little. She went on, singing, while the glad waves danced up each side her road, coming nearer and nearer, narrowing her path. Still she went on, singing, having to stop sometimes when her path would be entirely covered by a rising wave, and wait till it had fallen back.