She came downstairs to find her father waiting, and they walked away through the woods together.  Alix had already gone up to Peter’s house to play tennis.  They walked slowly through the lovely aisles of the trees, crossing a road or two, climbing steadily upward under great redwoods.  The forest was thinning with oaks and madrone trees, and they found the sunlight again high on the crest of the ridge before a turn of the trail brought them in view of Peter’s bungalow.  It was a shabby little place, all porch and slope of rough brown roof, set in a wilderness of wild flowers and overlooking long descending slopes of hillside that stretched far away to the very bay and marshes at the ocean mouth.

To-night the spring sunshine streamed across it with broad shadows, the mountains’ rough crest stood against a wide expanse of sunset sky.  Cherry’s skirt brushed the gold dust from masses and masses of buttercups.  The tennis was over, but just over; Peter and Alix were sitting, still panting, on the rail of the wide, open porch, and shouted as the others came up.

“You missed doubles!” called Alix.  “The grandest we ever did!  Doubles with the Thompsons and three sets straight to us—­six-two, six-two, and six-two again!  They’ve gone.  Oh, heavens, I never had such tennis.  Oh, Peter, when you stood there at the net and just curved your hand like a cup”—­Alix gave an enthusiastic imitation--"and over she went, and game and set!”

Cherry, sinking white and frilly into a chair, smiled indulgently.  The walk had given her a wild-rose colour, and even Alix was struck with her extraordinary beauty.  Alix had wheeled about on the rail to face the porch, and Peter had gotten to his feet and was hospitably pushing basket chairs about.  Now he gave Alix a critical look.

“You’re disgracefully dirty!” he said, fraternally.

“I know it,” she answered, calmly.  “Have I time to tub?”

“All the time in the world!” he answered.

“Are any clothes of mine here?” further demanded Alix, rising lazily.

“Yes, there’s a blouse.  It’s in the linen closet; ask Kow for it or get it yourself when you get your towels.  You left it the day you changed here after we all climbed the mountain.  I hope you people are going to get enough to eat,” Peter added, flinging himself into a chair beside Cherry.

“He’s been cooking it since breakfast!” Alix remarked, departing.  Peter laughed guiltily, and Cherry, too.  It was only an exaggeration of the simple truth.  He loved to cook, and his meals were famous.

“It’s very pleasant to me to have Alix so much at home here,” Cherry said, when Alix was gone, and the doctor wandering happily about the garden.  “I don’t know what we’d do if any one ever usurped our places here!”

She had said it deliberately; the fascination of her recent discovery was too strong to resist.  The man flushed suddenly.  For a full minute he did not speak, and Cherry was surprised to find herself a little thrilled and even frightened by his silence.