the river, which here and there turned upon itself in long links and windings. Ranges of blue hills closed the distance. Now and then a nearer mountain rose, single and alone, from the plain. The air was cool, and full of a brilliant zest, which the Western girls had never before tasted. Katy felt as if she were drinking champagne. She and Clover flew from window to window, exclaiming with such delight that Lilly was surprised.
"I can't see what there is to make such a fuss about," she remarked. "That's only Deerfield. It's quite a small place."
"But how pretty it looks, nestled in among the hills! Hills are lovely, Clover, aren't they?"
"These hills are nothing. You should see the White Mountains," said the experienced Lilly. "Ma and I spent three weeks at the Profile House last vacation. It was perfectly elegant."
In the course of the afternoon, Katy drew papa away to a distant seat, and confided her distress about the wash-stands.
"Don't you think it is horrid, papa? Aunt Izzie always said that it isn't lady-like not to take a sponge-bath every morning; but how can we, with
