swim, she laughed up at
the moon, and was back into her clothes in a jiffy. At her call Paul
plunged out of the trees to the rescue.

"Lost your nerve, did you?"

"No, I've been in. It's wonderful. Now, I want a drink of brandy, and my
bark bed."

He laughed, came to the rescue with a flask, and led her to the place
where Bill had spread her blankets.

"Good-night, Undine Goldfish," said Paul, and left her.

Presently, wrapped in her steamer rugs, she slid into sleep, like a
mermaid into the sea. About three o'clock Paul turned over to throw a
log on the fire, when a small figure, dragging blankets, came into view.

"What's the matter?"

"Oh, the night is so big and there's so much sky, it scares me."

"Is the night sapping you up?"

"Yes. I want to lie near the fire and you."

"Poor kid, she wants the lights o' home. Lie here where it's warm."

[Illustration: "He tended the fire that was between them"]

So until morning she lay on one side, and Paul on the other, while he
tended the fire that was between them.

PART III

All days are alike in the mountains, all days are marvellously
different. It seems sometimes as if a giant hand must push the great
hills into new positions and relationships. Then the sky artist makes
such daring experiments in shape and colour, as no Cubist ever dreamed
of. People say they tire of the mountains and prefer the sea, because it
is ever changing, but no man with the seeing eye ever makes that
mistake. The sea soothes or irritates, but the mountains rouse the
spiritual sources of your being--they are vision makers; they stretch
you to your fullest measure, if you go to them with yearning.

The second day of their first expedition they jogged back to the ranch
after an early supper on the heights. Barbara went on to the main house
to see if hot water could be gotten for a bath, and came back chuckling.

"The bath-tubs are in the laundry house. You get a ticket. I'm thirteen.
I hope this isn't a popular hour."

When she set forth laden with towels and soap Paul laughed.

"The luxury-loving idol of Broadway makes for the distant laundry!"

"I'd walk a mile for hot water to take this soreness out of my bones.
You'd better get yourself a ticket."

"Thanks, I'll go into the river."

An hour later, in a soft frilly neglige, she joined him on the tiny
veranda, where he sat smoking. He rose and bowed formally.

"How did you leave New York, Madam? I'd no idea we h