mber days, the best of all in the western
country, when the light falls less fiercely through a soft haze that
seems to fill the air about you, and that grows into purple on the far
hilltops. By the time we reached the canyon the sun was riding high and
pouring its rays full into all the deep nooks where the shadows mostly
lay.

There were no shadows to-day, except such as the trees cast upon the
green moss beds and the black rocks. The tops of the tall elms were sere
and rusty, but the leaves of the rugged oaks that fringed the canyon's
lips shone a rich and glossy brown. All down the sides the poplars and
delicate birches, pale yellow, but sometimes flushing into orange and
red, stood shimmering in the golden light, while here and there the
broad-spreading, feathery sumachs made great splashes of brilliant
crimson upon the yellow and gold. Down in the bottom stood the cedars
and the balsams, still green. We stood some moments silently gazing into
this tangle of interlacing boughs and shimmering leaves, all glowing in
yellow light, then Lady Charlotte broke the silence in tones soft and
reverent as if she stood in a great cathedral.

"And this is Gwen's canyon!"

"Yes, but she never sees it now," I said, for I could never ride through
without thinking of the child to whose heart this was so dear, but whose
eyes never rested upon it. Lady Charlotte made no reply, and we took the
trail that wound down into this maze of mingling colors and lights
and shadows. Everywhere lay the fallen leaves, brown and yellow and
gold;--everywhere on our trail, on the green mosses and among the
dead ferns. And as we rode, leaves fluttered down from the trees above
silently through the tangled boughs, and lay with the others on moss and
rock and beaten trail.

The flowers were all gone; but the Little Swan sang as ever its
many-voiced song, as it flowed in pools and eddies and cascades, with
here and there a golden leaf upon its black waters. Ah! how often in
weary, dusty days these sights and sounds and silences have come to me
and brought my heart rest!

As we began to climb up into the open, I glanced at my companion's face.
The canyon had done its work with her as with all who loved it. The
touch of pride that was the habit of her face was gone, and in its place
rested the earnest wonder of a little child, while in her eyes lay the
canyon's tender glow. And with this face she looked in upon Gwen.

And Gwen, who had been waiting