da's fire--something that would convey to her in a few words a sense
of friendship and beauty.

While Peter gazed at the unresponsive gray sandstone and wrote line
after line which he immediately destroyed, Henry Anderson explored the
mountain and came in, red faced and perspiring, from miles of climbing
with a bright stone in each hand, or took the car to bring in small
heaps too heavy to carry that he had collected near the roads. They were
two men striving for the favor of the same girl. How Linda would have
been amused had she understood the situation, or how Eileen would have
been provoked, neither of the men knew nor did they care.

The workmen came after Linda left and went before her return. Having
been cautioned to silence, Katy had not told her when work actually
began; and so it happened that, going to her room one evening, she
unlocked the door and stepped inside to face the completed fireplace.
The firebox was not very large but ample. The hearthstone was a
big sheet of smooth gray sandstone. The sides and top were Henry's
collection of brilliant boulders, carefully and artistically laid
in blue mortar, and over the firebox was set Peter's slab of gray
sandstone. On it were four deeply carved lines. The quaint Old English
lettering was filled even to the surface with a red mortar, while the
capitals were done in dull blue. The girl slowly read:

Voiceless stones, with Flame-tongues Preach Sermons struck
from Nature's Lyre; Notes of Love and Trust and Hope Hourly sing in
Linda's Fire.

In the firebox stood a squat pair of black andirons, showing age and
usage. A rough eucalyptus log waited across them while the shavings from
the placing of the mantel and the cutting of the windows were tucked
beneath it. Linda stood absorbed a minute. She looked at the skylight,
flooding the room with the light she so needed coming from the right
angle. She went over to the new window that gave her a view of the
length of the valley she loved and a most essential draft. When she
turned back to the fireplace her hands were trembling.

"Now isn't that too lovely of them?" she said softly. "Isn't that
altogether wonderful? How I wish Daddy were here to sit beside my fire
and share with me the work I hope to do here."

In order to come as close to him as possible she did the next best
thing. She sat down at her table and wrote a long letter to Marian,
telling her everything she could think of that would interest her.