on which he remembered.

"Oh!" she said merely.

"I have been comparing this person to God's other works," he said, a
light in his eyes which told that the former decision to postpone an
attempt to uncover the mystery had been ruthlessly put aside, "and I
have come to the conclusion that in spite of the infinite care he took
in forming the beautiful world out yonder he did not neglect this person
to whom I refer."

Her eyes met his in a glance of swift comprehension. She drew a slow,
deep breath and averted her face, which was now crimson.

"As you have been able to illustrate man's insignificance in comparison
to God's mighty creations, so has my own inferiority been forced upon me
by my attempting to compare myself to the sweet character of the person
of whom I speak," said Hollis, his voice low and earnest. "It has been a
question whether--when I speak to her of a thing which has been on my
mind for many days--she could not with justice paraphrase the question
asked by the still, small voice and say: What have you done to deserve
this? And I should have to reply--nothing." He had moved closer to her,
leaning forward to look into her eyes.

She sat very still, her gaze on the basin. "Perhaps this very estimable
person holds other views?" she returned, with a flash of mischief in her
eyes. She turned suddenly and looked straight at him, meeting his gaze
unwaveringly, a demure smile on her face. "I told you that sometimes a
person's thoughts were expressed in their eyes," she said--and now her
lashes flickered--"perhaps you can tell what my thoughts are?"

It was a challenge, a defiance, and an unconditional surrender. Like a
flash one of Hollis's arms went out--she was drawn, vainly protesting,
toward him.

"You haven't answered," she laughed, in a smothered voice; "you are not
certain----"

She did not finish the sentence. Mrs. Norton, coming to the door for a
breath of fresh air, halted on the threshold, looked, smiled, and then
quietly--very quietly--slipped back into the house.

Away out over the basin a Mexican eagle circled, winging his slow way
through the golden sunshine of the afternoon. Miles away the mountain
peaks rose somberly, a mysterious, golden halo rising slowly above them.
Perhaps there would always be mystery in the mountains, but a certain
mystery that had troubled Hollis mightily had been successfully solved.
The gods had favored him.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE SEAR AND YELLOW DAYS