ills.

"I believe you would."

His look and manner of speaking disturbed Helen, though she could not
tell why. All the doubts and fears of the past weeks again assailed her.
She began to feel a vague distrust of her ambition. Was it after all so
very different from the sordid motives she had despised in others? A
vision of Ysleta rose before her, with the glaring rawness and gaudy
pretensions which she had regarded with such humorous contempt. She had
been keen enough to forecast the ruin in store for the promoters; but
were her own plans so superior to these as she had once imagined? Did
not they too possess some elements of ruin? Suppose success should crown
her efforts, would success bring happiness? There was Elijah's wife; how
would this success affect this woman whom she had never seen, of whose
existence she was barely conscious? Her depression deepened. Why not
tell Elijah, even without a plausible reason, that she had decided
against it? Her lips half opened to speak, but a host of conflicting
impulses held her dumb. Success, wealth, these were the golden spurs
that had urged her on. Without this shining goal, what would life be but
a dreary round of duties?

The sun was beating with fierce heat on her unprotected face. The clammy
chill of the lowlands was gone. The towering heights of the San
Bernardinos rose clear against the blue of the sky. Elijah drew rein,
and Helen turned to look behind. To the west and south as far as the eye
could reach, stretched a great, softly moving sea of milky white. Thus
far and no farther, soft fingers of creamy vapor reached out against the
foot-hills, crept up into the gulches, reached upward and were dissolved
by the sun into transparent air. Far up on one of the foot-hills, was a
huge square of dark green set in a frame of tawny sand. Helen knew the
map; she recognized the locality. She had no need of Elijah's words as
he pointed with his whip.

"There's the first grove of navel oranges ever raised on this continent.
I had just three trees to start with, now you can see for yourself.
There's Pico's ranch. That's the one we are to buy." He again pointed
with his whip, tracing the boundaries in the air. "There's the Sangre de
Cristo; here's where it's going to be." He indicated with his whip the
crest of the hills, the line of the main canal; showed where it would
pierce a higher peak with tunnels, and where, the main canal being
tapped, the life-giving waters would be di