elbow, and was
levelling her black brows at him. But two kicks from the young surgeon,
and a significant motion towards the door, sent Mr. McClosky away
muttering. "How should I know that 'HE' meant Ridgeway?" he said
apologetically, as he went and returned with the young gentleman. The
surgeon, who was still holding her pulse, smiled, and thought
that--with a little care--and attention--the stimulants--might
be--diminished--and---he--might leave--the patient for some hours with
perfect safety. He would give further directions to Mr. McClosky--down
stairs.

It was with great archness of manner, that, half an hour later, Mr.
McClosky entered the room with a preparatory cough; and it was with some
disappointment that he found Ridgeway standing quietly by the window,
and his daughter apparently fallen into a light doze. He was still more
concerned, when, after Ridgeway had retired, noticing a pleasant smile
playing about her lips, he said softly:--

"You was thinking of some one, Jinny?"

"Yes, father," the gray eyes met his steadily,--"of poor John Ashe!"

Her recovery was swift. Nature, that had seemed to stand jealously aloof
from her in her mental anguish, was kind to the physical hurt of her
favorite child. The superb physique, which had been her charm and her
trial, now stood her in good stead. The healing balsam of the pine, the
balm of resinous gums, and the rare medicaments of Sierran altitudes,
touched her as it might have touched the wounded doe; so that in two
weeks she was able to walk about. And when, at the end of the month,
Ridgeway returned from a flying visit to San Francisco, and jumped from
the Wingdam coach at four o'clock in the morning, the Rose of Tuolumne,
with the dewy petals of either cheek fresh as when first unfolded to his
kiss, confronted him on the road.

With a common instinct, their young feet both climbed the little hill
now sacred to their thought. When they reached its summit, they were
both, I think, a little disappointed. There is a fragrance in the
unfolding of a passion, that escapes the perfect flower. Jenny thought
the night was not as beautiful; Ridgeway, that the long ride had blunted
his perceptions. But they had the frankness to confess it to each
other, with the rare delight of such a confession, and the comparison
of details which they thought each had forgotten. And with this, and an
occasional pitying reference to the blank period when they had not known
each other,