Outside her open window the birds were singing, and the sun, which was just above the higher mountain-tops, was flooding the world with its wealth of morning beauty.
The music of the feathery chorus and the golden beauty of the light that streamed through the window into her room, with the fresh enticing perfume of the balmy air, were very alluring to the young woman just returned from the cities' stale and dingy atmosphere.
Betty Jo decided instantly that she must go for a before-breakfast walk.
From the window, as she dressed, she saw Brian going to the barn with the milk-pail, and heard him greet the waiting "Bess" and exchange a cheery good-morning with "Old Prince," who hailed his coming with a low whinny.
Quietly, so as not to disturb Auntie Sue, Betty Jo slipped from the house and went down the gentle slope to the river-bank, and strolled along the margin of the stream toward Elbow Rock,--pausing sometimes to look out over the water as her attention was drawn to some movement of the river life, or turning aside to pluck a wild flower that caught her eye.

She had made her way thus leisurely two-thirds of the distance perhaps from the house to Elbow Rock bluff when Judy suddenly confronted her.

The mountain girl came so unexpectedly from among the bushes that Betty Jo, who was stooping over a flower, was startled.
"Judy!" she exclaimed.

"Goodness! child, how you frightened me!" she finished with a good-natured laugh.

But as she noticed the mountain girl's appearance, the laugh died on her lips, and her face was grave with puzzled concern.
Poor Judy's black hair was uncombed and dishevelled.