Amy Brooks

Dorothy Dainty at the Mountains Amy Brooks

THE great hotel on the crest of the hill was bathed in sunlight that poured from a rift in the clouds, as if sent for the sole purpose of showing the grand portico, the broad piazza, and the flag that floated gracefully on the summer breeze. Its many windows seemed to be looking across the valley to opposite mountain peaks, and one could easily imagine that its wide, open doorway, smiled genially as if offering a welcome to all arriving guests. Two little girls ran across the lawn, the one with flaxen curls, the other with sunny brown ringlets. The fair-haired little girl had eyes as blue as the blue blossoms that she held in her hand, while her playmate's eyes were soft and brown, and told that her heart was loving and true.