e me,
will make him quite fit." The doctor's manner was briskly professional
and helped to quiet the girl's alarm.

"Can I see him?" she asked.

"Most certainly, in a few hours when he wakes and when you are rested.
Here, Billy, take Miss Cameron's checks. Look sharp."

"Say, Doc," said Billy in an undertone, "about that tea and toast--"

"What the deuce--?" said the doctor impatiently. "Oh, yes--all right!
Only look lively."

"Keep her a-viewin' the scenery, Doc, a bit," continued Billy under his
breath.

"Oh, get a move on, Billy! What are you monkeying about?" said the
doctor quite crossly. He was anxious to escape from a position that had
become intolerable to him. For months he had been looking forward to
this meeting and now he had bungled it. In the first place he had begun
by not knowing the girl who for three years and more had been in his
dreams day and night, then he had carried himself like a schoolboy
in her presence, and lastly had frightened her almost to death by his
clumsy announcement of her brother's accident. The young lady at his
side, with the quick intuition of her Celtic nature, felt his mood, and,
not knowing the cause, became politely distant.

On their walk to the hotel Dr. Martin pointed out the wonderful pearly
gray light stealing across the plain and beginning to brighten on the
tops of the rampart hills that surrounded the town.

"You will see the Rockies in an hour, Miss Cameron, in the far west
there," he said. But there was no enthusiasm in his voice.

"Ah, yes, how beautiful!" said the young lady. But her tone, too, was
lifeless.

Desperately the doctor strove to make conversation during their short
walk and with infinite relief did he welcome the appearance of Mandy at
her bedroom door waiting their approach.

"Your brother's wife, Miss Cameron," said he.

For a single moment they stood searching each other's souls. Then by
some secret intuition known only to the female mind they reached a
conclusion, an entirely satisfactory conclusion, too, for at once they
were in each other's arms.

"You are Moira?" cried Mandy.

"Yes," said the girl in an eager, tremulous voice. "And my brother? Is
he well?"

"Well? Of course he is--perfectly fine. He is sleeping now. We will not
wake him. He has had none too good a night."

"No, no," cried Moira, "don't wake him. Oh, I am so glad. You see, I was
afraid."

"Afraid? Why were you afraid?" inquired Mandy, looking indignantly a