they flew along under the murmuring pines, he pointed out the various
places of interest. The machine was running fast, with the going none
too smooth, when, all at once, while making a sharp turn, the wheels
skidded, and they were almost ditched. Laura gave a little scream, and,
instinctively, grasped her companion's arm. He laughed to reassure her,
and, giving the wheel a vigorous twist, the car was again under control
and once more on its way.

Laura had always felt nervous in automobiles, even in New York, where
she was accustomed to go at a much slower pace. But to-day, in spite of
the mishap they had just escaped, she had no fear. She knew that John
was a splendid driver, watchful, resourceful, careful. With his immense
strength and skill, the machine seemed but a toy in his hands.

She watched him furtively, admiring him. This was no city roue, his
constitution undermined by dissipation. He was good to look at,
wholesome, frank, virile. Perhaps if she had met him earlier, her life
might have been very different. She might have been a respectable
woman. She could have loved such a man as this. She did love him--she
was sure of it now. There was no mistaking the feeling he inspired in
her. Once, he chanced to glance down, and caught her looking intently
at him.

"What's the matter?" he smiled.

"Nothing," she answered gravely.

Soon they reached their destination. The automobile came to a stop,
and, getting down, she took his arm, and together they approached the
imposing gateway of the far-famed Garden of the Gods. When she passed
through the red perpendicular portals of the place, Laura was filled
with awe. It was the first time she had beheld this unique and
beautiful demonstration of Nature, and she could not repress her
enthusiasm. In the wildest flights of her imagination, she had never
pictured such a scene as the one now presented to her eyes. It was as
if she had been suddenly transported to fairyland, and was treading
among the colossal habitations of giants. On all sides were stupendous
masses of rock, huge boulders of all colors--white, yellow and
red--most fantastically shaped. There were lofty towers, strange,
wind-wrought obelisks, pointed pinnacles, bizarre in shape as one sees
in nightmares. It reminded her of the settings of Wagner's music dramas
and the weird pictures of Gustave Dore. She admired the Graces, lofty
fragments of strata shaped like obelisks. Then there was the Cradle, a
huge r