him the cup.

"I want to drink to some purpose also," he said, and there was no need
of further words, but he went on, his full heart giving eloquence to
his lips, "I want to pledge my life to your service--my life and all I
am."

She grew a little pale. This intensity of emotion awed her as the
majestic in Nature affects great souls. "I don't think you ought. I
don't think I am quite worthy."

"Let me be judge of that." He spoke quickly and almost sharply. "Shall
I drink?"

She had walked on while Clement was speaking, and stood leaning
against the browsing horse. After a little hesitation she answered,
"If you are thirsty."

[Illustration]

The words were light, but he understood her. He drank and then came
straight toward her.

She shrank from him in sudden timidity and said a little hurriedly,
"Help me into the saddle. I shall need to ride back."

_WESTWARD VISTA_

_The half-sunk sun
Burns through the dusty-crimson sky;
Streamers of gold and green soar
In radiating splendor, like the spokes
Of God's unmeasurable chariot-wheels
Half-hid and vanishing.
Around me is coolness, ripeness and repose;
The smell of gathered grain and fruits,
And the musky breath of melons fills the air.
The very dust is fruity, and the click
Of locusts' wings is like the close
Of gates upon great stores of wheat.
The gathered barley bleaches in shock,
The corn breathes on me from the west,
And the sky-line widens on and on
Until I see the waves of yellow-green
Break on the hills that face the snow and lilac peaks
Of Colorado's mountains._

CHAPTER I

At first Clement's happiness had no further base of uneasiness than
the lover's fear of loss. It all seemed too good to be true, and he
had a hidden fear that something might happen to set him back where he
was before she came. It was quite like his feeling about his mine--it
took him a certain length of time before he ceased to dream of its
sudden loss, and now it seemed (when absent from her) that it would be
easy for something to rob him of this love which was his life.

This feeling was mixed, too, with a feeling of his unworthiness, which
deepened the more closely he studied her. She was so free from all
bruise and stain of life's battle. There were no questionable places
in her life. Could he say as much?

Whenever he asked himself the question his dealings with the
stockho