laying
electrician to get the wires up, the dynamo running back there under
the water fall. Do you like it?"

She did not answer. She had no time to answer, she was so busy trying
the two chairs, inhaling the fragrance of the flowers, admiring the
fireplace, examining the reading lamp which hung over the table and
which he had constructed of wood, chosen for beauty of natural colour
and grain, the opaque sides shutting out the light which fell straight
down upon an open book.

Only now did she realise that the cave seemed smaller. There was a
partition running across it, a wide door standing ajar. He followed
her as she ran to it.

"My bedroom," he warned her. "I won't swear to its tidiness."

Here again was the soft glow of electric lights cunningly concealed
with nowhere a hint of the wires that ran in deeply chiseled grooves;
here was a wide couch, a bit of the woodland, as were the chairs and
table, the rough bark still upon the woodwork, cushions and coverlet of
bearskin; here a smaller table, a smaller chair.

"It's wonderful, you wonderful Wayne!" she cried delightedly.

But he had his arm about her again and was leading her toward the
fireplace, to it, through another door which opened to the passage
leading to the chasm where the water leaped down toward the bowels of
the earth. The door flung open, the passage filled with light and a
fresh surprise.

Across the chasm were logs as large as one man could handle, hewn so
that they lay close together, so that their upper surface made a level
floor. Wanda and Shandon crossed, hearing the water shouting under
them. And here, where Wanda had never been before, they came upon--

"The kitchen!" she cried. "A real kitchen!"

With a real stove, only that it was made of slabs and squares of
granite, a real kitchen table only that it was made from rough pine and
cedar, with the bark still on it; and very real dishes. Most of all
the real fragrance of coffee just boiling over. Wanda ran to retrieve
it and Wayne went on ahead of her. In a moment he called.

All new to her, the short climb upward along a flight of steps cut in
the rock, the little winding way up which she ran eagerly, the narrow
rock platform, the door against which he stood.

"First," he commanded gaily, "turn and look back."

She turned. Looking down she saw the kitchen; looking outward she saw
a great cut through the cliffs where they seemed to fall apart in a
steep sided ravine