The Golden Peaks Read Free

reprimanded schoolgirl.
    “Let me give you a little advice,” he said. “You must not let your high spirits get the better of you. The mountains need a cool, cl ear head and plenty of common sense— and the right kind of boots or shoes.”
    Celia said, feeling that she owed him a little gratitude:
    “Yes, I am sure you are right” But she felt that she would like to tell him, too, that this was the first time she had been in high spirits since her overpowering anxiety about Dorothy had set in motion the giving up of her flat, the selling of her furniture, the undertaking of this journey.
    “If you are going down to the valley, you will go more quickly this way,” he said, pointing out a second path, less rough than the one she was on. “It will bring you to the road below the pines. It is a little slippery because of the shade of the trees—I beg you to remember it, and not to try to run.”
    “I have already thanked you for coming to my h el p,” said Celia. “I thank you again, and assure you that I have already learned my lesson this morning.” She spoke stiffly, stung by his impersonality and the fact that he obviously thought her foolish and scatterbrained. She turned away from him, and took the path that he had indicated.
    After a f ew seconds of walking with her h ead held high, she could not resist the impulse to turn back to see if he were still there. Her path was descending, and he was now high above her, standing on a shelf of rock, outlined against the sky and looking over the valley. She had a momentary impression that he and the mountain were one, possessed of the same strength and power, the same reserves of s ilence. The rough cl oth of his clothes, the heavy cl imbing boots, the dark hair blowing slightly in the wind, all h el ped to add to the ruggedness of his appearance. A lord of the mountain, she thought. At that moment, he turned and saw that she was watching him. The hand that h el d his battered green felt hat with its cluster of feathers, moved slightly in a gesture of farewell, and Celia, her cheeks burning at being discovered watching him, went on her way.
    How stupid I must have seemed to him, she thought, as she hurried along the path. How childish and irresponsible! Of course he was right in telling me to treat the mountains with respect. What good will I do to anybody by getting myself involved in an accident just now? Or as he was not slow in hinting—in getting myself killed? How would Dorothy fare in that case? She would probably be left to lang uish , unvisited, in the rest centre, until Hilda chose to take her back to England, where she would languish in still more boarding schools. If for Dorothy’s sake alone, Celia decided, she must proceed with care.
    That afternoon, she approached Anneliese, and finding that she had time to spare, put her problem before her; how to eke out her currency to make it last as long as possible; or, how to find a job which would earn her enough money to enable her to stay. She had, she said, thought of giving English lessons perhaps.
    Anneliese shook a most decided golden head. There were several things against that. For one, while she stayed here on the mountains, pupils were far away; she would have to be in a town. For another, pupils had usually to be gathered together, and that took valuable time, when Celia would be spending valuable currency; and for yet a third, there were already so many people teaching English. Altogether, Anneliese did not advocate such a course.
    “Mmm,” said Celia, “that is awkward. What else is there that I can do?”
    “How are your languages?” asked Anneliese .
    “French and German good, but not very fluent, through of practice. ”
    “I wondered about hotel hostess, but then there are so many girls wanting such a job, that that is difficult, too. Of course, there are more situations in hotel work than any thing el se.”
    “Well, you know, I would try my hand at anything.”
    “Any thing ? You