Days there would be when these sunlit ridges would be mere blurs of driving storm, when the wind would shriek about the gullies, and dark mists swirl around the peaks.

But on this morning there was no anger on the heights.
"Yes--you could have had no better day for your first mountain, mademoiselle," said Jean, as he stood beside her.

"But this is not your first mountain." She turned to him.
"Yes, it is." Her guide bowed to her.
"Then, mademoiselle, you have great gifts.

For you stood upon that ice-slope and moved along and up it, as only people of experience stand and move.

I noticed you.