firelight had betrayed the truth. Truedale had not
been sleeping: Truedale had been terribly upset by that last letter of
his!

And just then Conning leaned forward and threw his entire mail upon the
blazing logs!

CHAPTER XI

For Truedale to await, calmly, further developments was out of the
question. He did, however, force himself to act as sanely as possible.
He felt confident that Nella-Rose, safely hidden and probably enjoying
it in her own elfish way, would communicate with him in a few days at
the latest, now that things had, according to White, somewhat settled
into shape after the outlaw Lawson had taken himself off the scene.

To get to the station and telegraph would mean quite a feat for
Nella-Rose at any time, and winter was in all likelihood already
gripping the hills. To write and send a letter might be even more
difficult. So Truedale reasoned; so he feverishly waited, but he was not
idle. He rented a charming little suite of rooms, high up in a new
apartment house, and begged Lynda to set them in order at once. Somehow
he believed that in the years ahead, after she understood, Lynda would
be glad that he had asked this from her.

"But why the hurry, Con?" she naturally questioned; "if people are going
to be so spasmodic I'll have to get a partner. It may be all right,
looked at financially, but it's the ruination of art."

"But this is a special case, Lyn."

"They're all special cases."

"But this is a--welcome."

"For whom?"

"Well, for me! You see I've never had a real home, Lyn. It's one of the
luxuries I've always dreamed of."

"I had thought," Lynda's clear eyes clouded, "that your uncle's house
would be your home at last. It is big enough for us all--we need not run
against each other."

"Keep my room under the roof, Lyn." Truedale looked at her yearningly
and she--misunderstood! "I shall often come to that--to you and
Brace--but humour me in this fancy of mine."

So she humoured him--working early and late--putting more of her own
heart in it than he was ever to know, for she believed--poor girl--that
he would offer it to her some day and then--when he found out about the
money--how exactly like a fairy tale it all would be! And Lynda had had
so few fairy tales in her life.

And while she designed and Conning watched and suggested, they talked of
his long-neglected work.

"You'll have time soon, Con, to give it your best thought. Did you do
much while you were away?"