In the afternoon the stage rushed them past a charming camp in the woods,
to the Sentinel Hotel, at the foot of the Yosemite Falls. Angela was given
a room opening on to a veranda, and waiting for Nick to bring her some
word from Kate, by telephone, she stood looking up at the immeasurable
height of the cataract, which loomed white across a brown sweep of
trout-haunted river. "It's like a perpendicular road of marble going up to
heaven," she thought; and as she gazed, down that precipice of snow came
tumbling a white shape as of a giant bear, striving desperately to save
itself, hanging for an instant on the brink of the vast gulf, then letting
go hopelessly and plunging over.
Angela stepped out on the veranda to talk with Hilliard when he came, and
though shocked to hear that Kate could not arrive that night, was glad to
know her safe. Nick had arranged that Kate should meet her mistress at
Glacier Point next day. "And so," he said, "there's nothing to bother
about, if you can do without her for this one night. I hope you don't
mind much, for I feel it was my fault. I ought to have managed better."
"I don't mind in the least," Angela was beginning to console him, when
suddenly she broke off with an "Oh!" of dismay, clasping her hands
together.
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