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 letter in the morning that she suddenly recalled 'Avidon's on Pine Mountain.' One of Roger's undestroyed letters had been written to her from Avidon's, when he was visiting his mother who was spending a summer there recuperating from an illness.

It wasn't a sanitarium, nor health resort, but there was a doctor—a very great and wise man, who lived in a log-cabin of rather glorified proportions, within horseback distance of the hotel. This doctor, usually dressed in khaki knickerbockers and soft shirts with the collar open, was in the habit of riding over to the hotel occasionally to share a little of his greatness and wisdom with certain of the guests there, some of whom had traveled a continent for the privilege. It was just the right place for Sheilah. Expensive. Of course Sheilah would have to have clothes—proper equipment. Cicely would see to that. If only there was a vacancy!

She called up Avidon's on the long-distance telephone. There was a vacancy! Or would be in ten days. A single room and bath overlooking the valley. Cicely engaged it.