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yielded them up； and as instantly regretted it。 〃They're paid
for；〃 continued Flip； observing his hesitation。
〃That's so；〃 stammered the official of the Crossing； seeing his
last chance of knowing the contents of the parcel vanish； 〃but I
thought ez it's a valooable package； maybe ye might want to examine
it to see that it was all right afore ye receipted for it。〃
〃I'll risk it；〃 said Flip； coolly； 〃and if it ain't right I'll let
ye know。〃
As the girl seemed inclined to retire with her property； the
Postmaster was driven to other conversation。 〃We ain't had the
pleasure of seeing you down at the Crossing for a month o'
Sundays；〃 he began； with airy yet pronounced gallantry。 〃Some
folks let on you was keepin' company with some feller like Bijah
Brown； and you were getting a little too set up for the Crossing。〃
The individual here mentioned being the county butcher； and
supposed to exhibit his hopeless affection for Flip by making a
long and useless divergence from his weekly route to enter the
canyon for 〃orders；〃 Flip did not deem it necessary to reply。
〃Then I allowed how ez you might have company；〃 he continued； 〃I
reckon there's some city folks up at the summit。 I saw a mighty
smart； fash'n'ble gal cavorting round。 Had no end o' style and
fancy fixin's。 That's my kind； I tell you。 I just weaken on that
sort o' gal；〃 he continued； in the firm belief that he had awakened
Flip's jealousy； as he glanced at her well…worn homespun frock； and
found her eyes suddenly fixed on his own。
〃Strange I ain't got to see her yet；〃 she replied coolly；
shouldering her parcel； and quite ignoring any sense of obligation
to him for his extra…official act。
〃But you might get to see her at the edge of the Gin and Ginger
Woods；〃 he persisted feebly； in a last effort to detain her； 〃if
you'll take a pasear there with me。〃 Flip's only response was to
walk on toward the cabin； whence； with a vague complimentary
suggestion of 〃droppin' in to pass the time o' day〃 with her
father； the Postmaster meekly followed。
The paternal Fairley； once convinced that his daughter's new
companion required no pecuniary or material assistance from his
hands； relaxed to the extent of entering into a querulous
confidence with him； during which Flip took the opportunity of
slipping away。 As Fairley had that infelicitous tendency of most
weak natures； to unconsciously exaggerate unimportant details in
their talk； the Postmaster presently became convinced that the
butcher was a constant and assiduous suitor of Flip's。 The
absurdity of his sending parcels and letters by post when he might
bring them himself did not strike the official。 On the contrary；
he believed it to be a master stroke of cunning。 Fired by jealousy
and Flip's indifference； he 〃deemed it his duty〃using that facile
form of cowardly offensivenessto betray Flip。
Of which she was happily oblivious。 Once away from the cabin； she
plunged into the woods； with the parcel swung behind her like a
knapsack。 Leaving the trail； she presently struck off in a
straight line through cover and underbrush with the unerring
instinct of an animal； climbing hand over hand the steepest ascent；
or fluttering like a bird from branch to branch down the deepest
declivity。 She soon reached that part of the trail where the
susceptible Postmaster had seen the fascinating unknown。 Assuring
herself she was not followed； she crept through the thicket until
she reached a little waterfall and basin that had served the
fugitive Lance for a bath。 The spot bore signs of later and more
frequent occupancy； and when Flip carefully removed some bark and
brushwood from a cavity in the rock and drew forth various folded
garments； it was evident she had used it as a sylvan dressing…room。
Here she opened the parcel； it contained a small and delicate shawl
of yellow China crepe。 Flip instantly threw it over her shoulders
and stepped hurriedly toward the edge of the wood。 Then she began
to pass backward and forward before the trunk of a tree。 At first
nothing was visible on the tree； but a closer inspection showed a
large pane of ordinary window glass stuck in the fork of the
branches。 It was placed at such a cunning angle against the
darkness of the forest opening that it made a soft and mysterious
mirror； not unlike a Claude Lorraine glass； wherein not only the
passing figure of the young girl was seen； but the dazzling green
and gold of the hillside； and the far…off silhouetted crests of the
Coast Range。
But this was evidently only a prelude to a severer rehearsal。 When
she returned to the waterfall she unearthed from her stores a large
piece of yellow soap and some yards of rough cotton 〃sheeting。〃
These she deposited beside the basin and again crept to the edge of
the wood to assure herself that she was alone。 Satisfied that no
intruding foot had invaded that virgin bower； she returned to her
bath and began to undress。 A slight wind followed her； and seemed
to whisper to the circumjacent trees。 It appeared to waken her
sister naiads and nymphs； who； joining their leafy fingers； softly
drew around her a gently moving band of trembling lights and
shadows； of flecked sprays and inextricably mingled branches； and
involved her in a chaste sylvan obscurity； veiled alike from
pursuing god or stumbling shepherd。 Within these hallowed
precincts was the musical ripple of laughter and falling water； and
at times the glimpse of a lithe brier…caught limb； or a ray of
sunlight trembling over bright flanks； or the white austere outline
of a childish bosom。
When she drew again the leafy curtain； and once more stepped out of
the wood； she was completely transformed。 It was the figure that
had appeared to the Postmaster； the slight； erect； graceful form of
a young woman modishly attired。 It was Flip； but Flip made taller
by the lengthened skirt and clinging habiliments of fashion。 Flip
freckled； but； through the cunning of a relief of yellow color in
her gown； her piquant brown…shot face and eyes brightened and
intensified until she seemed like a spicy odor made visible。 I
cannot affirm that the judgment of Flip's mysterious modiste was
infallible； or that the taste of Mr。 Lance Harriott； her patron；
was fastidious； enough that it was picturesque； and perhaps not
more glaring and extravagant than the color in which Spring herself
had once clothed the sere hillside where Flip was now seated。 The
phantom mirror in the tree fork caught and held her with the sky；
the green leaves； the sunlight and all the graciousness of her
surroundings； and the wind gently tossed her hair and the gay
ribbons of her gypsy hat。 Suddenly she started。 Some remote sound
in the trail below； inaudible to any ear less fine than hers；
arrested her breathing。 She rose swiftly and darted into cover。
Ten minutes passed。 The sun was declining； the white fog was
beginning to creep over the Coast Range。