dering pity at her helplessness. She
waited, expectant, for the sound of Peter's horse. Surely he must come at
any moment, overcome with apologies, and she--Judith hid her face in her
hands at the thought--she would steal away through the thicket at the first
sound of hoofs. But as the minutes slipped by and still no sign of Peter,
a sickening anxiety began to gnaw at her heart. Had something happened to
him?

She did not wait to ask herself the question twice. She crawled the length
of the thicket with incredible rapidity, gained the pine forest, and made
her way beneath the low-hanging boughs; without stopping to protect
herself from them she gained the open space and ran quickly to Kitty.

"Are you hurt? What has happened?"

Kitty looked up, startled at the voice. She had not heard the sound of the
moccasined feet. Her wandering, forlorn thoughts crystallized at sight of
the woman before her. A new lightning leaped into her eyes as she
recognized Judith. There was between them a thrilling consciousness that
gave to their mutual perception a something sharp and fine, that grasped
the drama of the moment with the precision and fidelity of a camera. And
through all the wonder of the meeting there was in the heart of each an
outflowing that met and mingled and understood the potential tragedy
element of the situation.

"You are Miss Rodney, I believe?"

Kitty was conscious of something strange in her voice as she looked into
the dark eyes, wide with questioning fear. Ah, but she had amazing beauty,
and a something that seemed of the very essence of deep-souled
womanliness! The two women presented a fine bit of antithesis, Kitty,
flower-like, small, delicately wrought, the finished product of the town,
exotic as some rare transplanted orchid growth. And in Judith there was a
gemlike quality: it was in the bloom of her skin, the iridescent radiance
of her hair, that was bluish, like a plum in sunlight; it was in the warm,
red life in her lips, in the pulsing vitality of the slim, brown throat;
in every line was sensuous force restrained by spiritual passion.

Kitty told of the accident in which her horse had thrown her and
disappeared in the pine fringes, leaving her stunned for a moment or two;
and how she had finally pulled herself together and followed what appeared
to be a trail, in the hope of finding some one. She dwelt long on the
details of the accident.

"Yes, but Peter, what has happened him?" Judith chose