r there was apparently no trail to be seen,--the soft inner
twilight began to give way to the outer stronger day, and presently she
was startled to see the clear blue of the sky before her on apparently
the same level as the brown pine-tessellated floor she was treading. Not
only did this show her that she was crossing a ridge of the upland, but
a few moments later she had passed beyond the woods to a golden hillside
that sloped towards a leafy, sheltered, and exquisitely-proportioned
valley. A tiny but picturesque tower, and a few straggling roofs and
gables, the flashing of a crystal stream through the leaves, and a
narrow white ribbon of road winding behind it indicated the hostelry
they were seeking. So peaceful and unfrequented it looked, nestling
between the hills, that it seemed as if they had discovered it.

With his hand at times upon the bridle, at others merely caressing her
mustang's neck, he led the way; there were a few breathless places where
the crown of his straw hat appeared between her horse's reins, and again
when she seemed almost slipping over on his shoulder, but they were
passed with such frank fearlessness and invincible youthful confidence
on the part of her escort that she felt no timidity. There were moments
when a bit of the charmed landscape unfolding before them overpowered
them both, and they halted to gaze,--sometimes without a word, or only a
significant gesture of sympathy and attention. At one of those artistic
manifestations Mrs. Ashwood laid her slim gloved fingers lightly but
unwittingly on John Milton's arm, and withdrew them, however, with a
quick girlish apology and a foolish color which annoyed her more than
the appearance of familiarity. But they were now getting well down into
the valley; the court of the little hotel was already opening before
them; their unconventional relations in the idyllic world above had
changed; the new one required some delicacy of handling, and she had an
idea that even the simplicity of the young stranger might be confusing.

"I must ask you to continue to act as my escort," she said, laughingly.
"I am Mrs. Ashwood of Philadelphia, visiting San Francisco with my
sister and brother, who are, I am afraid, even now hopelessly waiting
luncheon for me at San Mateo. But as there seems to be no prospect of my
joining them in time, I hope you will be able to give me the pleasure
of your company, with whatever they may give us here in the way of
refreshment