But when Aunt Isabel carelessly suggested that Missy, next
summer, go to Colorado with her, how the local metropolis dwindled;
how little and simple, though pretty, of course, appeared Rocky
Ford.
Colorado quivered before her in images supernal. Colorado!
Enchantment in the very name! And mountains, and eternal snow upon
the peaks, and spraying waterfalls, and bright-painted gardens of
the gods--oh, ecstasy!
And going with Aunt Isabel! Aunt Isabel was young, beautiful, and
delightful. Aunt Isabel went to Colorado every summer!
But a whole year! That is, in truth, a long time and can bring forth
much that is unforeseen, amazing, revolutionizing. Especially when
one is sixteen and beginning really to know life.
Missy had always found life in Cherryvale absorbing. The past had
been predominantly tinged with the rainbow hues of dreams; with the
fine, vague, beautiful thoughts that "reading" brings, and with such
delicious plays of fancy as lend witchery to a high white moon, an
arched blue sky, or rolling prairies-even to the tranquil town and
the happenings of every day.
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