s to write letters or can put his feelings upon paper. But when
she received her invitation to visit Rushing River Camp, she could have
sung for joy.

"We are hoping that an old friend of yours, Mr. Nickson Hilliard, may be
with us when you come; as well as Miss Dene, the authoress," Mrs. Harland
said in her note. And Carmen believed that she had Hilliard to thank for
the compliment paid her by Falconer and his sister.

She knew that he had met Falconer and admired him; and putting two and two
together, she fancied that already Nick must have come West, meaning to
surprise her by his sudden appearance; that he had fallen in with Mrs.
Harland and Falconer on the journey, perhaps been invited by them, and
suggested, or at least hinted, that she should be asked to join the
house-party at the same time.

"Otherwise, I don't believe they'd ever have thought of me," she told
herself, with a humility which would have had an element of sulkiness if
she had not been half out of her wits with happiness over the idea that
Nick was near, and wanting her. If he had not wanted her, he would not
have schemed to have her with him at Rushing River Camp.

All the anxieties and suspicions of the past weeks were forgotten. She
telegraphed her acceptance, and began thinking what to wear during the
visit. She admitted in her mind that Mrs. Harland was a "bigger swell"
than she, and knew more of the world and Society. But she determined that
the hostess should not outdo her guest in the way of "smart" dresses,
hats, and jewellery.

Carmen broke her journey at San Francisco, staying there two days at the
Palace Hotel. On the first of these days, as it happened, Nick and Angela
motored to Mount Hamilton, and stayed late at the Lick Observatory. On the
second day they went to Mount Tamalpais, lunching at the delightful
"tavern" on the mountain-top, and rushing madly down the wondrous steeps
at sunset, in the little "gravity car" guided by the landlord.

So it was that Carmen got no chance glimpse of the two together, and had
no suspicion that in the hotel register of the St. Francis was inscribed
the name of Nickson Hilliard. She shopped contentedly, and enjoyed looking
at the prettily dressed women, because she saw none whom she thought as
good-looking as herself. Then, on the second evening, just as Angela and
Nick were tearing down the rocky height known familiarly to San Francisco
as "the mountain," Carmen left for Shasta Springs.

It