“In course ye could. She’d appreciate a visit from you-all the best kind. Hit’s middlin’ steep, though, an’ a power o’ work climbin’ back, but I reckon ye wouldn’t mind.” Nancy Jane insisted on bringing up the water; it was quite an effort for even her strong, young arms. Then they hurried back to the bungalow to find Gincy frying bacon and the rest making beds. “I knew you’d be coming along pretty soon,” she said, dropping the eggs into the skillet. “Miss Howard wants to ask you something.” “How would you like to visit Miss Clark’s school to-day, it’s only a little piece from the foot of the mountain near the pinnacle? We can walk it in an hour and a half.” “But it’s Sunday!” exclaimed Mallie. “How could we?” Urilla laughed. “Isn’t Sunday a good day to go to Sunday-school, honey? You must be dreaming. Wake up!” “Oh, that’s it. I never thought of a Sunday-school out here; of course I’ll go. When do we start?” “Just as soon as the dishes are done. We’ll put up our dinners and walk back just before sunset. We must allow two hours for the climb, anyhow.” Miss Howard began planning for the luncheon. By eight o’clock the little party were on their way. Mrs. Haggis came out to the gate as they went by. “I wish I war goin’, too,” she said wistfully, “but pore folks has ter work. I couldn’t tromp ’round the mountings an’ git my meals. You-all go on an’ I’ll wash some dishes; I couldn’t run ’round nohow an’ let Job do hit.” The visitors waved a good-bye and started on. A mountain bluebird darted hither and yon, a cardinal shot like a bright gleam through the gay foliage. The dew was still heavy in the shady places, but they followed the deep wagon track caused by heavy loads of picnickers from the college, and parties at the bungalow. The season was almost over for these, and then the long winter’s isolation began for the Haggis family—an isolation shared by thousands over this great mountain region. Every downward turn revealed a glimpse of beauty which the girls had not noticed going up. From the coves where the men had been ploughing for fall crops came a fragrant, earthy odour. Off to the southeast range after range rose blue against the sky. At last they reached the pike which led past the little settlement at the foot of the pinnacle. A number of people passed them on horseback with the usual greeting; otherwise the stillness was Sabbath-like. A turn in the road disclosed the church house, a neat log building near a little spring, and overshadowed by a turreted-topped mountain. There were other buildings in the same yard, and probably a dozen scattered around in sight. The girls noticed that they were of a better type than those back in the hills at Goose Creek, for only one was windowless. Two vehicles were approaching. The driver of the first was a tall, pleasant-faced, youngish-looking woman who nodded at them with a smile of surprised recognition as she checked the sleek chestnut.