e canyon lay wrapped in soft, gray twilight. Or,
sometimes, taking one or two boats from the little boat-house built
for the accommodation of summer tourists, they rowed about the lake in
the moonlight.

On this particular night, Rutherford proposed a row, in one of the
larger boats, the entire length of the lake, to the cascades, to which
the rest readily acceded. The ladies soon appeared in light, fleecy
wraps, Miss Gladden carrying a fine guitar, which called forth
exclamations of pleasure from the gentlemen.

"Good!" said Rutherford, "that will be just the thing; now we will
have some music."

"Miss Gladden," said Houston, "why have we not been favored in this
way earlier?"

"Oh," she replied, archly, "it has never been a necessity until
to-night, but a long row in the moonlight would not be perfect without
music."

This was their first trip to the end of the lakes, and they found
the scene beautiful beyond description. On one side an almost
perpendicular wall of rock; in the opposite direction, the mountain
ranges stretching far away in the distance, with snowy peaks gleaming
here and there, like watch towers; while just before them, the
shimmering cascades in the wondrous beauty of the moonlight, the deep,
unceasing roar seeming to rise and fall with a rhythm of its own.

For the first few moments, they sat in silent admiration of the beauty
around them; then Miss Gladden touched the strings of the guitar, and
began singing in a rich contralto, in which Houston joined with a fine
baritone, while Rutherford added a clear, sweet tenor. Their voices
blended perfectly, and accompanied by the sweet notes of the guitar,
the music floated out over the lake, the lingering echoes dying away,
in the distance.

Lyle took no part in the song, but sat listening with parted lips and
dreamy eyes. When the song was finished, she exclaimed:

"Oh, please do not stop, I love to listen to you; it reminds me of
something I have heard long ago, I don't know when or where."

"Do you never sing, Miss Maverick?" asked Rutherford.

"Only sometimes for myself," she said, "I know only two or three songs
that I have heard others sing."

"But you have a sweet voice," said Houston, "will you not sing for
us?"

"If you will overlook any mistakes, I may," answered Lyle, "for I
probably do not sing correctly, as I know nothing of music."

"Certainly, Lyle, we would like to hear you," said Miss Gladden.

As simply, and as free fr