The Call of the Canyon Read online

  CHAPTER II

  Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin,gazed in fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge. Sometimes thewheels on that side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of theedge. The brakes squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear thescrape of the iron-shod hoofs of the horses as they held back stifflegged, obedient to the wary call of the driver.

  The first hundred yards of that steep road cut out of the cliff appearedto be the worst. It began to widen, with descents less precipitous. Tipsof trees rose level with her gaze, obstructing sight of the blue depths.Then brush appeared on each side of the road. Gradually Carley's strainrelaxed, and also the muscular contraction by which she had bracedherself in the seat. The horses began to trot again. The wheels rattled.The road wound around abrupt corners, and soon the green and red wall ofthe opposite side of the canyon loomed close. Low roar of running waterrose to Carley's ears. When at length she looked out instead of down shecould see nothing but a mass of green foliage crossed by tree trunksand branches of brown and gray. Then the vehicle bowled under darkcool shade, into a tunnel with mossy wet cliff on one side, andclose-standing trees on the other.

  "Reckon we're all right now, onless we meet somebody comin' up,"declared the driver.

  Carley relaxed. She drew a deep breath of relief. She had her firstfaint intimation that perhaps her extensive experience of motor cars,express trains, transatlantic liners, and even a little of airplanes,did not range over the whole of adventurous life. She was likely to meetsomething, entirely new and striking out here in the West.

  The murmur of falling water sounded closer. Presently Carley saw thatthe road turned at the notch in the canyon, and crossed a clear swiftstream. Here were huge mossy boulders, and red walls covered by lichens,and the air appeared dim and moist, and full of mellow, hollow roar.Beyond this crossing the road descended the west side of the canyon,drawing away and higher from the creek. Huge trees, the like of whichCarley had never seen, began to stand majestically up out of the gorge,dwarfing the maples and white-spotted sycamores. The driver called thesegreat trees yellow pines.

  At last the road led down from the steep slope to the floor of thecanyon. What from far above had appeared only a green timber-chokedcleft proved from close relation to be a wide winding valley, tip anddown, densely forested for the most part, yet having open glades andbisected from wall to wall by the creek. Every quarter of a mile or sothe road crossed the stream; and at these fords Carley again held ondesperately and gazed out dubiously, for the creek was deep, swift, andfull of bowlders. Neither driver nor horses appeared to mind obstacles.Carley was splashed and jolted not inconsiderably. They passed throughgroves of oak trees, from which the creek manifestly derived its name;and under gleaming walls, cold, wet, gloomy, and silent; and betweenlines of solemn wide-spreading pines. Carley saw deep, still greenpools eddying under huge massed jumble of cliffs, and stretches of whitewater, and then, high above the treetops, a wild line of canyon rim,cold against the sky. She felt shut in from the world, lost in anunscalable rut of the earth. Again the sunlight had failed, and the graygloom of the canyon oppressed her. It struck Carley as singular that shecould not help being affected by mere weather, mere heights and depths,mere rock walls and pine trees, and rushing water. For really, whathad these to do with her? These were only physical things that she waspassing. Nevertheless, although she resisted sensation, she was more andmore shot through and through with the wildness and savageness of thiscanyon.

  A sharp turn of the road to the right disclosed a slope down the creek,across which showed orchards and fields, and a cottage nestling at thebase of the wall. The ford at this crossing gave Carley more concernthan any that had been passed, for there was greater volume and depthof water. One of the horses slipped on the rocks, plunged up and on withgreat splash. They crossed, however, without more mishap to Carley thanfurther acquaintance with this iciest of waters. From this point thedriver turned back along the creek, passed between orchards and fields,and drove along the base of the red wall to come suddenly upon a largerustic house that had been hidden from Carley's sight. It sat almostagainst the stone cliff, from which poured a white foamy sheet of water.The house was built of slabs with the bark on, and it had a lower andupper porch running all around, at least as far as the cliff. Greengrowths from the rock wall overhung the upper porch. A column of bluesmoke curled lazily upward from a stone chimney. On one of the porchposts hung a sign with rude lettering: "Lolomi Lodge."

  "Hey, Josh, did you fetch the flour?" called a woman's voice frominside.

  "Hullo I Reckon I didn't forgit nothin'," replied the man, as he gotdown. "An' say, Mrs. Hutter, hyar's a young lady from Noo Yorrk."

  That latter speech of the driver's brought Mrs. Hutter out on the porch."Flo, come here," she called to some one evidently near at hand. Andthen she smilingly greeted Carley.

  "Get down an' come in, miss," she said. "I'm sure glad to see you."

  Carley, being stiff and cold, did not very gracefully disengage herselffrom the high muddy wheel and step. When she mounted to the porch shesaw that Mrs. Hutter was a woman of middle age, rather stout, withstrong face full of fine wavy lines, and kind dark eyes.

  "I'm Miss Burch," said Carley.

  "You're the girl whose picture Glenn Kilbourne has over his fireplace,"declared the woman, heartily. "I'm sure glad to meet you, an' mydaughter Flo will be, too."

  That about her picture pleased and warmed Carley. "Yes, I'm GlennKilbourne's fiancee. I've come West to surprise him. Is he here....Is--is he well?"

  "Fine. I saw him yesterday. He's changed a great deal from what he wasat first. Most all the last few months. I reckon you won't know him....But you're wet an' cold an' you look fagged. Come right in to the fire."

  "Thank you; I'm all right," returned Carley.

  At the doorway they encountered a girl of lithe and robust figure, quickin her movements. Carley was swift to see the youth and grace of her;and then a face that struck Carley as neither pretty nor beautiful, butstill wonderfully attractive.

  "Flo, here's Miss Burch," burst out Mrs. Hutter, with cheerfulimportance. "Glenn Kilbourne's girl come all the way from New York tosurprise him!"

  "Oh, Carley, I'm shore happy to meet you!" said the girl, in a voice ofslow drawling richness. "I know you. Glenn has told me all about you."

  If this greeting, sweet and warm as it seemed, was a shock to Carley,she gave no sign. But as she murmured something in reply she looked withall a woman's keenness into the face before her. Flo Hutter had a fairskin generously freckled; a mouth and chin too firmly cut to suggesta softer feminine beauty; and eyes of clear light hazel, penetrating,frank, fearless. Her hair was very abundant, almost silver-gold incolor, and it was either rebellious or showed lack of care. Carleyliked the girl's looks and liked the sincerity of her greeting;but instinctively she reacted antagonistically because of the franksuggestion of intimacy with Glenn.

  But for that she would have been spontaneous and friendly rather thanrestrained.

  They ushered Carley into a big living room and up to a fire of blazinglogs, where they helped divest her of the wet wraps. And all the timethey talked in the solicitous way natural to women who were kind andunused to many visitors. Then Mrs. Hutter bustled off to make a cup ofhot coffee while Flo talked.

  "We'll shore give you the nicest room--with a sleeping porch right underthe cliff where the water falls. It'll sing you to sleep. Of course youneedn't use the bed outdoors until it's warmer. Spring is late here, youknow, and we'll have nasty weather yet. You really happened on Oak Creekat its least attractive season. But then it's always--well, just OakCreek. You'll come to know."

  "I dare say I'll remember my first sight of it and the ride down thatcliff road," said Carley, with a wan smile.

  "Oh, that's nothing to what you'll see and do," returned Flo, knowingly."We've had Eastern tenderfeet here before. And never was there a one ofthem who didn't come to love Arizona."

  "Tende
rfoot! It hadn't occurred to me. But of course--" murmured Carley.

  Then Mrs. Hutter returned, carrying a tray, which she set upon a chair,and drew to Carley's side. "Eat an' drink," she said, as if theseactions were the cardinally important ones of life. "Flo, you carry herbags up to that west room we always give to some particular personwe want to love Lolomi." Next she threw sticks of wood upon the fire,making it crackle and blaze, then seated herself near Carley and beamedupon her.

  "You'll not mind if we call you Carley?" she asked, eagerly.

  "Oh, indeed no! I--I'd like it," returned Carley, made to feel friendlyand at home in spite of herself.

  "You see it's not as if you were just a stranger," went on Mrs. Hutter."Tom--that's Flo's father--took a likin' to Glenn Kilbourne when hefirst came to Oak Creek over a year ago. I wonder if you all know howsick that soldier boy was.... Well, he lay on his back for two solidweeks--in the room we're givin' you. An' I for one didn't think he'dever get up. But he did. An' he got better. An' after a while he wentto work for Tom. Then six months an' more ago he invested in the sheepbusiness with Tom. He lived with us until he built his cabin up WestFork. He an' Flo have run together a good deal, an' naturally he toldher about you. So you see you're not a stranger. An' we want you to feelyou're with friends."

  "I thank you, Mrs. Hutter," replied Carley, feelingly. "I never couldthank you enough for being good to Glenn. I did not know he was so--sosick. At first he wrote but seldom."

  "Reckon he never wrote you or told you what he did in the war," declaredMrs. Hutter.

  "Indeed he never did!"

  "Well, I'll tell you some day. For Tom found out all about him. Got someof it from a soldier who came to Flagstaff for lung trouble. He'd beenin the same company with Glenn. We didn't know this boy's name while hewas in Flagstaff. But later Tom found out. John Henderson. He was onlytwenty-two, a fine lad. An' he died in Phoenix. We tried to get himout here. But the boy wouldn't live on charity. He was always expectin'money--a war bonus, whatever that was. It didn't come. He was a clerk atthe El Tovar for a while. Then he came to Flagstaff. But it was too coldan' he stayed there too long."

  "Too bad," rejoined Carley, thoughtfully. This information as to thesuffering of American soldiers had augmented during the last few months,and seemed to possess strange, poignant power to depress Carley. Alwaysshe had turned away from the unpleasant. And the misery of unfortunateswas as disturbing almost as direct contact with disease and squalor. Butit had begun to dawn upon Carley that there might occur circumstances oflife, in every way affronting her comfort and happiness, which it wouldbe impossible to turn her back upon.

  At this juncture Flo returned to the room, and again Carley was struckwith the girl's singular freedom of movement and the sense of sure poiseand joy that seemed to emanate from her presence.

  "I've made a fire in your little stove," she said. "There's waterheating. Now won't you come up and change those traveling clothes.You'll want to fix up for Glenn, won't you?"

  Carley had to smile at that. This girl indeed was frank andunsophisticated, and somehow refreshing. Carley rose.

  "You are both very good to receive me as a friend," she said. "I hopeI shall not disappoint you.... Yes, I do want to improve my appearancebefore Glenn sees me.... Is there any way I can send word to him--bysomeone who has not seen me?"

  "There shore is. I'll send Charley, one of our hired boys."

  "Thank you. Then tell him to say there is a lady here from New York tosee him, and it is very important."

  Flo Hutter clapped her hands and laughed with glee. Her gladness gaveCarley a little twinge of conscience. Jealously was an unjust andstifling thing.

  Carley was conducted up a broad stairway and along a boarded hallwayto a room that opened out on the porch. A steady low murmur of fallingwater assailed her ears. Through the open door she saw across the porchto a white tumbling lacy veil of water falling, leaping, changing, soclose that it seemed to touch the heavy pole railing of the porch.

  This room resembled a tent. The sides were of canvas. It had no ceiling.But the rough-hewn shingles of the roof of the house sloped down closely.The furniture was home made. An Indian rug covered the floor. The bedwith its woolly clean blankets and the white pillows looked inviting.

  "Is this where Glenn lay--when he was sick?" queried Carley.

  "Yes," replied Flo, gravely, and a shadow darkened her eyes. "I ought totell you all about it. I will some day. But you must not be made unhappynow.... Glenn nearly died here. Mother or I never left his side--for awhile there--when life was so bad."

  She showed Carley how to open the little stove and put the short billetsof wood inside and work the damper; and cautioning her to keep an eye onit so that it would not get too hot, she left Carley to herself.

  Carley found herself in an unfamiliar mood. There came a leap of herheart every time she thought of the meeting with Glenn, so soon nowto be, but it was not that which was unfamiliar. She seemed to have adifficult approach to undefined and unusual thoughts. All this wasso different from her regular life. Besides she was tired. But theseexplanations did not suffice. There was a pang in her breast which mustowe its origin to the fact that Glenn Kilbourne had been ill in thislittle room and some other girl than Carley Burch had nursed him. "Am Ijealous?" she whispered. "No!" But she knew in her heart that she lied.A woman could no more help being jealous, under such circumstances, thanshe could help the beat and throb of her blood. Nevertheless, Carley wasglad Flo Hutter had been there, and always she would be grateful to herfor that kindness.

  Carley disrobed and, donning her dressing gown, she unpacked her bagsand hung her things upon pegs under the curtained shelves. Then shelay down to rest, with no intention of slumber. But there was a strangemagic in the fragrance of the room, like the piny tang outdoors, and inthe feel of the bed, and especially in the low, dreamy hum and murmur ofthe waterfall. She fell asleep. When she awakened it was five o'clock.The fire in the stove was out, but the water was still warm. She bathedand dressed, not without care, yet as swiftly as was her habit at home;and she wore white because Glenn had always liked her best in white. Butit was assuredly not a gown to wear in a country house where draughts ofcold air filled the unheated rooms and halls. So she threw round hera warm sweater-shawl, with colorful bars becoming to her dark eyes andhair.

  All the time that she dressed and thought, her very being seemed to bepermeated by that soft murmuring sound of falling water. No moment ofwaking life there at Lolomi Lodge, or perhaps of slumber hours, couldbe wholly free of that sound. It vaguely tormented Carley, yet was notuncomfortable. She went out upon the porch. The small alcove spaceheld a bed and a rustic chair. Above her the peeled poles of the roofdescended to within a few feet of her head. She had to lean over therail of the porch to look up. The green and red rock wall sheeredponderously near. The waterfall showed first at the notch of a fissure,where the cliff split; and down over smooth places the water gleamed,to narrow in a crack with little drops, and suddenly to leap into a thinwhite sheet.

  Out from the porch the view was restricted to glimpses between thepines, and beyond to the opposite wall of the canyon. How shut-in, howwalled in this home!

  "In summer it might be good to spend a couple of weeks here,"soliloquized Carley. "But to live here? Heavens! A person might as wellbe buried."

  Heavy footsteps upon the porch below accompanied by a man's voicequickened Carley's pulse. Did they belong to Glenn? After a strainedsecond she decided not. Nevertheless, the acceleration of her blood andan unwonted glow of excitement, long a stranger to her, persisted as sheleft the porch and entered the boarded hall. How gray and barn-like thisupper part of the house! From the head of the stairway, however, the bigliving room presented a cheerful contrast. There were warm colors, somecomfortable rockers, a lamp that shed a bright light, and an open firewhich alone would have dispelled the raw gloom of the day.

  A large man in corduroys and top boots advanced to meet Carley. He had aclean-shaven face that might have be
en hard and stern but for his smile,and one look into his eyes revealed their resemblance to Flo's.

  "I'm Tom Hutter, an' I'm shore glad to welcome you to Lolomi, MissCarley," he said. His voice was deep and slow. There were ease and forcein his presence, and the grip he gave Carley's hand was that of aman who made no distinction in hand-shaking. Carley, quick in herperceptions, instantly liked him and sensed in him a strong personality.She greeted him in turn and expressed her thanks for his goodness toGlenn. Naturally Carley expected him to say something about her fiance,but he did not.

  "Well, Miss Carley, if you don't mind, I'll say you're prettier thanyour picture," said Hutter. "An' that is shore sayin' a lot. All thesheep herders in the country have taken a peep at your picture. Withoutpermission, you understand."

  "I'm greatly flattered," laughed Carley.

  "We're glad you've come," replied Hutter, simply. "I just got backfrom the East myself. Chicago an' Kansas City. I came to Arizona fromIllinois over thirty years ago. An' this was my first trip since. ReckonI've not got back my breath yet. Times have changed, Miss Carley. Timesan' people!"

  Mrs. Hutter bustled in from the kitchen, where manifestly she had beenimportantly engaged. "For the land's sakes!" she exclaimed, fervently,as she threw up her hands at sight of Carley. Her expression was indeeda compliment, but there was a suggestion of shock in it. Then Flo camein. She wore a simple gray gown that reached the top of her high shoes.

  "Carley, don't mind mother," said Flo. "She means your dress is lovely.Which is my say, too.... But, listen. I just saw Glenn comin' up theroad."

  Carley ran to the open door with more haste than dignity. She saw a tallman striding along. Something about him appeared familiar. It was hiswalk--an erect swift carriage, with a swing of the march still visible.She recognized Glenn. And all within her seemed to become unstable. Shewatched him cross the road, face the house. How changed! No--this wasnot Glenn Kilbourne. This was a bronzed man, wide of shoulder, roughlygarbed, heavy limbed, quite different from the Glenn she remembered. Hemounted the porch steps. And Carley, still unseen herself, saw his face.Yes--Glenn! Hot blood seemed to be tingling liberated in her veins.Wheeling away, she backed against the wall behind the door and held upa warning finger to Flo, who stood nearest. Strange and disturbing then,to see something in Flo Hutter's eyes that could be read by a woman inonly one way!

  A tall form darkened the doorway. It strode in and halted.

  "Flo!--who--where?" he began, breathlessly.

  His voice, so well remembered, yet deeper, huskier, fell upon Carley'sears as something unconsciously longed for. His frame had so filledout that she did not recognize it. His face, too, had unbelievablychanged--not in the regularity of feature that had been its chief charm,but in contour of cheek and vanishing of pallid hue and tragic line.Carley's heart swelled with joy. Beyond all else she had hoped to seethe sad fixed hopelessness, the havoc, gone from his face. Thereforethe restraint and nonchalance upon which Carley prided herself sustainedeclipse.

  "Glenn! Look--who's--here!" she called, in voice she could nothave steadied to save her life. This meeting was more than she hadanticipated.

  Glenn whirled with an inarticulate cry. He saw Carley. Then--no matterhow unreasonable or exacting had been Carley's longings, they weresatisfied.

  "You!" he cried, and leaped at her with radiant face.

  Carley not only did not care about the spectators of this meeting, butforgot them utterly. More than the joy of seeing Glenn, more thanthe all-satisfying assurance to her woman's heart that she was stillbeloved, welled up a deep, strange, profound something that shook herto her depths. It was beyond selfishness. It was gratitude to God and tothe West that had restored him.

  "Carley! I couldn't believe it was you," he declared, releasing her fromhis close embrace, yet still holding her.

  "Yes, Glenn--it's I--all you've left of me," she replied, tremulously,and she sought with unsteady hands to put up her dishevelled hair."You--you big sheep herder! You Goliath!"

  "I never was so knocked off my pins," he said. "A lady to see me--fromNew York!... Of course it had to be you. But I couldn't believe. Carley,you were good to come."

  Somehow the soft, warm look of his dark eyes hurt her. New and strangeindeed it was to her, as were other things about him. Why had she notcome West sooner? She disengaged herself from his hold and moved away,striving for the composure habitual with her. Flo Hutter was standingbefore the fire, looking down. Mrs. Hutter beamed upon Carley.

  "Now let's have supper," she said.

  "Reckon Miss Carley can't eat now, after that hug Glenn gave her,"drawled Tom Hutter. "I was some worried. You see Glenn has gainedseventy pounds in six months. An' he doesn't know his strength."

  "Seventy pounds!" exclaimed Carley, gayly. "I thought it was more."

  "Carley, you must excuse my violence," said Glenn. "I've been huggingsheep. That is, when I shear a sheep I have to hold him."

  They all laughed, and so the moment of readjustment passed. PresentlyCarley found herself sitting at table, directly across from Flo. Apearly whiteness was slowly warming out of the girl's face. Her frankclear eyes met Carley's and they had nothing to hide. Carley's firstrequisite for character in a woman was that she be a thoroughbred. Shelacked it often enough herself to admire it greatly in another woman.And that moment saw a birth of respect and sincere liking in her forthis Western girl. If Flo Hutter ever was a rival she would be an honestone.

  Not long after supper Tom Hutter winked at Carley and said he "reckonedon general principles it was his hunch to go to bed." Mrs. Huttersuddenly discovered tasks to perform elsewhere. And Flo said in her coolsweet drawl, somehow audacious and tantalizing, "Shore you two will wantto spoon."

  "Now, Flo, Eastern girls are no longer old-fashioned enough for that,"declared Glenn.

  "Too bad! Reckon I can't see how love could ever be old-fashioned. Goodnight, Glenn. Good night, Carley."

  Flo stood an instant at the foot of the dark stairway where the lightfrom the lamp fell upon her face. It seemed sweet and earnest to Carley.It expressed unconscious longing, but no envy. Then she ran up thestairs to disappear.

  "Glenn, is that girl in love with you?" asked Carley, bluntly.

  To her amaze, Glenn laughed. When had she heard him laugh? It thrilledher, yet nettled her a little.

  "If that isn't like you!" he ejaculated. "Your very first words after weare left alone! It brings back the East, Carley."

  "Probably recall to memory will be good for you," returned Carley. "Buttell me. Is she in love with you?"

  "Why, no, certainly not!" replied Glenn. "Anyway, how could I answersuch a question? It just made me laugh, that's all."

  "Humph! I can remember when you were not above making love to a prettygirl. You certainly had me worn to a frazzle--before we became engaged,"said Carley.

  "Old times! How long ago they seem!... Carley, it's sure wonderful tosee you."

  "How do you like my gown?" asked Carley, pirouetting for his benefit.

  "Well, what little there is of it is beautiful," he replied, with a slowsmile. "I always liked you best in white. Did you remember?"

  "Yes. I got the gown for you. And I'll never wear it except for you."

  "Same old coquette--same old eternal feminine," he said, half sadly."You know when you look stunning.... But, Carley, the cut of that--orrather the abbreviation of it--inclines me to think that style forwomen's clothes has not changed for the better. In fact, it's worse thantwo years ago in Paris and later in New York. Where will you women drawthe line?"

  "Women are slaves to the prevailing mode," rejoined Carley. "I don'timagine women who dress would ever draw a line, if fashion went ondictating."

  "But would they care so much--if they had to work--plenty of work--andchildren?" inquired Glenn, wistfully.

  "Glenn! Work and children for modern women? Why, you are dreaming!" saidCarley, with a laugh.

  She saw him gaze thoughtfully into the glowing embers of the fire, andas she watche
d him her quick intuition grasped a subtle change in hismood. It brought a sternness to his face. She could hardly realize shewas looking at the Glenn Kilbourne of old.

  "Come close to the fire," he said, and pulled up a chair for her. Thenhe threw more wood upon the red coals. "You must be careful not to catchcold out here. The altitude makes a cold dangerous. And that gown is noprotection."

  "Glenn, one chair used to be enough for us," she said, archly, standingbeside him.

  But he did not respond to her hint, and, a little affronted, sheaccepted the proffered chair. Then he began to ask questions rapidly. Hewas eager for news from home--from his people--from old friends. Howeverhe did not inquire of Carley about her friends. She talked unremittinglyfor an hour, before she satisfied his hunger. But when her turn came toask questions she found him reticent.

  He had fallen upon rather hard days at first out here in the West; thenhis health had begun to improve; and as soon as he was able to work hiscondition rapidly changed for the better; and now he was getting alongpretty well. Carley felt hurt at his apparent disinclination to confidein her. The strong cast of his face, as if it had been chiseled inbronze; the stern set of his lips and the jaw that protruded lean andsquare cut; the quiet masked light of his eyes; the coarse roughnessof his brown hands, mute evidence of strenuous labors--these all gave adifferent impression from his brief remarks about himself. Lastly therewas a little gray in the light-brown hair over his temples. Glenn wasonly twenty-seven, yet he looked ten years older. Studying him so, withthe memory of earlier years in her mind, she was forced to admit thatshe liked him infinitely more as he was now. He seemed proven. Somethinghad made him a man. Had it been his love for her, or the army service,or the war in France, or the struggle for life and health afterwards? Orhad it been this rugged, uncouth West? Carley felt insidious jealousy ofthis last possibility. She feared this West. She was going to hate it.She had womanly intuition enough to see in Flo Hutter a girl somehow tobe reckoned with. Still, Carley would not acknowledge to herself thathis simple, unsophisticated Western girl could possibly be a rival.Carley did not need to consider the fact that she had been spoiled bythe attention of men. It was not her vanity that precluded Flo Hutter asa rival.

  Gradually the conversation drew to a lapse, and it suited Carley tolet it be so. She watched Glenn as he gazed thoughtfully into theamber depths of the fire. What was going on in his mind? Carley's oldperplexity suddenly had rebirth. And with it came an unfamiliar fearwhich she could not smother. Every moment that she sat there besideGlenn she was realizing more and more a yearning, passionate love forhim. The unmistakable manifestation of his joy at sight of her,the strong, almost rude expression of his love, had called to someresponsive, but hitherto unplumbed deeps of her. If it had not beenfor these undeniable facts Carley would have been panic-stricken. Theyreassured her, yet only made her state of mind more dissatisfied.

  "Carley, do you still go in for dancing?" Glenn asked, presently, withhis thoughtful eyes turning to her.

  "Of course. I like dancing, and it's about all the exercise I get," shereplied.

  "Have the dances changed--again?"

  "It's the music, perhaps, that changes the dancing. Jazz is becomingpopular. And about all the crowd dances now is an infinite variation offox-trot."

  "No waltzing?"

  "I don't believe I waltzed once this winter."

  "Jazz? That's a sort of tinpanning, jiggly stuff, isn't it?"

  "Glenn, it's the fever of the public pulse," replied Carley. "Thegraceful waltz, like the stately minuet, flourished back in the dayswhen people rested rather than raced."

  "More's the pity," said Glenn. Then after a moment, in which his gazereturned to the fire, he inquired rather too casually, "Does Morrisonstill chase after you?"

  "Glenn, I'm neither old--nor married," she replied, laughing.

  "No, that's true. But if you were married it wouldn't make anydifference to Morrison."

  Carley could not detect bitterness or jealousy in his voice. She wouldnot have been averse to hearing either. She gathered from his remark,however, that he was going to be harder than ever to understand.What had she said or done to make him retreat within himself, aloof,impersonal, unfamiliar? He did not impress her as loverlike. Whatirony of fate was this that held her there yearning for his kisses andcaresses as never before, while he watched the fire, and talked as toa mere acquaintance, and seemed sad and far away? Or did she merelyimagine that? Only one thing could she be sure of at that moment, and itwas that pride would never be her ally.

  "Glenn, look here," she said, sliding her chair close to his and holdingout her left hand, slim and white, with its glittering diamond on thethird finger.

  He took her hand in his and pressed it, and smiled at her. "Yes, Carley,it's a beautiful, soft little hand. But I think I'd like it better if itwere strong and brown, and coarse on the inside--from useful work."

  "Like Flo Hutter's?" queried Carley.

  "Yes."

  Carley looked proudly into his eyes. "People are born in differentstations. I respect your little Western friend, Glenn, but could I washand sweep, milk cows and chop wood, and all that sort of thing?"

  "I suppose you couldn't," he admitted, with a blunt little laugh.

  "Would you want me to?" she asked.

  "Well, that's hard to say," he replied, knitting his brows. "I hardlyknow. I think it depends on you.... But if you did do such work wouldn'tyou be happier?"

  "Happier! Why Glenn, I'd be miserable!... But listen. It wasn't mybeautiful and useless hand I wanted you to see. It was my engagementring."

  "Oh!--Well?" he went on, slowly.

  "I've never had it off since you left New York," she said, softly."You gave it to me four years ago. Do you remember? It was on mytwenty-second birthday. You said it would take two months' salary to paythe bill."

  "It sure did," he retorted, with a hint of humor.

  "Glenn, during the war it was not so--so very hard to wear this ring asan engagement ring should be worn," said Carley, growing more earnest."But after the war--especially after your departure West it was terriblyhard to be true to the significance of this betrothal ring. There was alet-down in all women. Oh, no one need tell me! There was. And men wereaffected by that and the chaotic condition of the times. New York waswild during the year of your absence. Prohibition was a joke.--Well, Igadded, danced, dressed, drank, smoked, motored, just the same asthe other women in our crowd. Something drove me to. I never rested.Excitement seemed to be happiness--Glenn, I am not making any pleato excuse all that. But I want you to know--how under tryingcircumstances--I was absolutely true to you. Understand me. I mean trueas regards love. Through it all I loved you just the same. And now I'mwith you, it seems, oh, so much more!... Your last letter hurt me. Idon't know just how. But I came West to see you--to tell you this--andto ask you.... Do you want this ring back?"

  "Certainly not," he replied, forcibly, with a dark flush spreading overhis face.

  "Then--you love me?" she whispered.

  "Yes--I love you," he returned, deliberately. "And in spite of all yousay--very probably more than you love me.... But you, like all women,make love and its expression the sole object of life. Carley, I havebeen concerned with keeping my body from the grave and my soul fromhell."

  "But--dear--you're well now?" she returned, with trembling lips.

  "Yes, I've almost pulled out."

  "Then what is wrong?"

  "Wrong?--With me or you," he queried, with keen, enigmatical glance uponher.

  "What is wrong between us? There is something."

  "Carley, a man who has been on the verge--as I have been--seldom ornever comes back to happiness. But perhaps--"

  "You frighten me," cried Carley, and, rising, she sat upon the arm ofhis chair and encircled his neck with her arms. "How can I help if I donot understand? Am I so miserably little?... Glenn, must I tell you? Nowoman can live without love. I need to be loved. That's all that's wrongwith me."

  "Carle
y, you are still an imperious, mushy girl," replied Glenn, takingher into his arms. "I need to be loved, too. But that's not what iswrong with me. You'll have to find it out yourself."

  "You're a dear old Sphinx," she retorted.

  "Listen, Carley," he said, earnestly. "About this love-making stuff.Please don't misunderstand me. I love you. I'm starved for your kisses.But--is it right to ask them?"

  "Right! Aren't we engaged? And don't I want to give them?"

  "If I were only sure we'd be married!" he said, in low, tense voice, asif speaking more to himself.

  "Married!" cried Carley, convulsively clasping him. "Of course we'll bemarried. Glenn, you wouldn't jilt me?"

  "Carley, what I mean is that you might never really marry me," heanswered, seriously.

  "Oh, if that's all you need be sure of, Glenn Kilbourne, you may beginto make love to me now."

  It was late when Carley went up to her room. And she was in such asoftened mood, so happy and excited and yet disturbed in mind, that thecoldness and the darkness did not matter in the least. She undressedin pitchy blackness, stumbling over chair and bed, feeling for what sheneeded. And in her mood this unusual proceeding was fun. When ready forbed she opened the door to take a peep out. Through the dense blacknessthe waterfall showed dimly opaque. Carley felt a soft mist wet her face.The low roar of the falling water seemed to envelop her. Under the cliffwall brooded impenetrable gloom. But out above the treetops shone greatstars, wonderfully white and radiant and cold, with a piercing contrastto the deep clear blue of sky. The waterfall hummed into an absolutelydead silence. It emphasized the silence. Not only cold was it that madeCarley shudder. How lonely, how lost, how hidden this canyon!

  Then she hurried to bed, grateful for the warm woolly blankets.Relaxation and thought brought consciousness of the heat of her blood,the beat and throb and swell of her heart, of the tumult within her. Inthe lonely darkness of her room she might have faced the truth of herstrangely renewed and augmented love for Glenn Kilbourne. But she wasmore concerned with her happiness. She had won him back. Her presence,her love had overcome his restraint. She thrilled in the sweetconsciousness of her woman's conquest. How splendid he was! To holdback physical tenderness, the simple expressions of love, because he hadfeared they might unduly influence her! He had grown in many ways.She must be careful to reach up to his ideals. That about Flo Hutter'stoil-hardened hands! Was that significance somehow connected withthe rift in the lute? For Carley admitted to herself that there wassomething amiss, something incomprehensible, something intangible thatobtruded its menace into her dream of future happiness. Still, what hadshe to fear, so long as she could be with Glenn?

  And yet there were forced upon her, insistent and perplexing, thequestions--was her love selfish? was she considering him? was she blindto something he could see? Tomorrow and next day and the days to comeheld promise of joyous companionship with Glenn, yet likewise theyseemed full of a portent of trouble for her, or fight and ordeal, oflessons that would make life significant for her.