"May I trouble you to write another for me?" asked Dick, as he received
the letter from Nell.

"It's no trouble, I'm sure--I'd be pleased," she replied.

That was altogether a wonderful speech of hers, Dick thought, because
the words were the first coherent ones she had spoken to him.

"May I stay?" asked Mercedes, smiling.

"By all means," he answered, and then he settled back and began.

Presently Gale paused, partly because of genuine emotion, and stole a
look from under his hand at Nell. She wrote swiftly, and her downcast
face seemed to be softer in its expression of sweetness. If she had in
the very least been drawn to him-- But that was absurd--impossible!

When Dick finished dictating, his eyes were upon Mercedes, who sat
smiling curious and sympathetic. How responsive she was! He heard the
hasty scratch of Nell's pen. He looked at Nell. Presently she rose,
holding out his letter. He was just in time to see a wave of red
recede from her face. She gave him one swift gaze, unconscious,
searching, then averted it and turned away. She left the room with
Mercedes before he could express his thanks.

But that strange, speaking flash of eyes remained to haunt and torment
Gale. It was indescribably sweet, and provocative of thoughts that he
believed were wild without warrant. Something within him danced for
very joy, and the next instant he was conscious of wistful doubt, a
gravity that he could not understand. It dawned upon him that for the
brief instant when Nell had met his gaze she had lost her shyness. It
was a woman's questioning eyes that had pierced through him.

During the rest of the day Gale was content to lie still on his bed
thinking and dreaming, dozing at intervals, and watching the lights
change upon the mountain peaks, feeling the warm, fragrant desert wind
that blew in upon him. He seemed to have lost the faculty of
estimating time. A long while, strong in its effect upon him, appeared
to have passed since he had met Thorne. He accepted things as he felt
them, and repudiated his intelligence. His old inquisitive habit of
mind returned. Did he love Nell? Was he only attracted for the moment?
What was the use of worrying about her or himself? He refused to
answer, and deliberately gave himself up to dreams of her sweet face
and of that last dark-blue glance.

Next day he believed he was well enough to leave his room; but Mrs.
Belding would not permit him to do so. She was ki