cheeks, made her
beautiful then.

"Lass, now you read your letter an' answer it. You can tear out the
pages. I'll sit here an' be makin' out to be readin' aloud out of this
book here, if any one happens in sudden-like!"

"Oh, how you think of everything!"

The hunter sat beside her pretending to be occupied with the book he had
taken from the table when really he was stealing glances at her face.
Indeed, she was more than pretty then. Illness and pain had enhanced the
sweetness of her expression. As she read on it was manifest that she had
forgotten the hunter's presence. She grew pink, rosy, scarlet, radiant.
And Wade thrilled with her as she thrilled, loved her more and more as
she loved. Moore must have written words of enchantment. Wade's hungry
heart suffered a pang of jealousy, but would not harbor it. He read in
her perusal of that letter what no other dreamed of, not even the girl
herself; and it was certitude of tragic and brief life for her if she
could not live for Wilson Moore. Those moments of watching her were
unutterably precious to Wade. He saw how some divine guidance had
directed his footsteps to this home. How many years had it taken him to
get there! Columbine read and read and reread--a girl with her first
love-letter. And for Wade, with his keen eyes that seemed to see the
senses and the soul, there shone something infinite through her rapture.
Never until that unguarded moment had he divined her innocence, nor had
any conception been given him of the exquisite torture of her maiden
fears or the havoc of love fighting for itself. He learned then much of
the mystery and meaning of a woman's heart.

CHAPTER XIII

Dear Wilson,--The note and letter from you have taken my breath away. I
couldn't tell--I wouldn't dare tell, how they made me feel.

"Your good news fills me with joy. And when Ben told me you wouldn't
lose your leg--that you would get well--then my eyes filled and my heart
choked me, and I thanked God, who'd answered my prayers. After all the
heartache and dread, it's so wonderful to find things not so terrible as
they seemed. Oh, I am thankful! You have only to take care of yourself
now, to lie patiently and wait, and obey Ben, and soon the time will
have flown by and you will be well again. Maybe, after all, your foot
will not be so bad. Maybe you can ride again, if not so wonderfully as
before, then well enough to ride on your father's range and look after
his stock. For, Wils