ed miles across
the plains, and a narrow golden rim, like a magic circlet, glimmered on
the horizon.

"Do you never feel afraid?" he asked, as they walked back to the house.

"No. I suppose I ought to, but I don't. I was a little disappointed the
first summer I was here, because nothing happened. It seemed such a
chance. But somehow things don't happen very often. Do you think they
do? And now I'm a good deal older and more experienced, and I don't
expect adventures. I'm almost twenty-five," she declared, with the
pardonable pride of advancing years.

There was that in Sir Bryan's face as well as in his character which had
always invited confidence. Consequently it did not seem to him in the
least degree unnatural that this charming girl should tell him about
herself, as they walked side by side along the lonely mountain slope, in
the fading light.

"I forgot to tell you," she was saying, "that I am a trained nurse. I
came out West from Iowa with a sick lady who died very soon, and I liked
the mountains, and so I stayed."

"And you've given up nursing?"

"Oh, no. In the winter season I am always busy. I couldn't afford to
give up nursing, and I don't believe I should want to. It's lovely to
help people when they are suffering. You get almost to feel as though
they belonged to you, and I haven't anybody belonging to me."

All this was said in a tone of soliloquy, without a trace of
self-consciousness. Miss Kathleen Merriman seemed to find it quite
natural that she should stand alone and unprotected in the world. But
somehow it conflicted with all Sir Bryan's articles of faith. Women were
intended to be taken care of, especially young and pretty women. A
feeling of genuine tenderness came over him and a longing to protect
this brave young creature. There was, to be sure, something about the
way her head was set upon her shoulders, that made him doubt whether it
would be easy to acquire the right to take care of her. But that made
the task all the more tempting. The old song that every Irishman loves
was in his thoughts. He felt an impulse, such as others had felt in this
young lady's presence, to whisper: "Kathleen Mavourneen." He tried to
fancy the consequences of such a bold step, but he did not venture to
face them. He therefore contented himself with observing that the air
had grown very chilly.

They had reached the little veranda once more, and Sir Bryan was not
invited to tarry. The girl stood there in th