bed, feeling for what she
needed. And in her mood this unusual proceeding was fun. When ready for
bed she opened the door to take a peep out. Through the dense blackness
the waterfall showed dimly opaque. Carley felt a soft mist wet her face.
The low roar of the falling water seemed to envelop her. Under the cliff
wall brooded impenetrable gloom. But out above the treetops shone great
stars, wonderfully white and radiant and cold, with a piercing contrast
to the deep clear blue of sky. The waterfall hummed into an absolutely
dead silence. It emphasized the silence. Not only cold was it that made
Carley shudder. How lonely, how lost, how hidden this canyon!

Then she hurried to bed, grateful for the warm woolly blankets.
Relaxation and thought brought consciousness of the heat of her blood,
the beat and throb and swell of her heart, of the tumult within her. In
the lonely darkness of her room she might have faced the truth of her
strangely renewed and augmented love for Glenn Kilbourne. But she was
more concerned with her happiness. She had won him back. Her presence,
her love had overcome his restraint. She thrilled in the sweet
consciousness of her woman's conquest. How splendid he was! To hold
back physical tenderness, the simple expressions of love, because he had
feared they might unduly influence her! He had grown in many ways.
She must be careful to reach up to his ideals. That about Flo Hutter's
toil-hardened hands! Was that significance somehow connected with
the rift in the lute? For Carley admitted to herself that there was
something amiss, something incomprehensible, something intangible that
obtruded its menace into her dream of future happiness. Still, what had
she to fear, so long as she could be with Glenn?

And yet there were forced upon her, insistent and perplexing, the
questions--was her love selfish? was she considering him? was she blind
to something he could see? Tomorrow and next day and the days to come
held promise of joyous companionship with Glenn, yet likewise they
seemed full of a portent of trouble for her, or fight and ordeal, of
lessons that would make life significant for her.

CHAPTER III

Carley was awakened by rattling sounds in her room. The raising of
sleepy eyelids disclosed Flo on her knees before the little stove, in
the act of lighting a fire.

"Mawnin', Carley," she drawled. "It's shore cold. Reckon it'll snow
today, worse luck, just because you're here. Take my hunch