the
railways; the multitudes of people; the lands beyond the seas, with
still more marvelous scenes,--all these will expand like fairy land
before you and make you wonder that you ever should have wished to
leave such a realm of beauty and miracles while in your youth."

Nellie sat for some time in silence, and then rose to her feet with a
weary sigh. Without speaking, she turned to walk away, but not in the
direction of her own home.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To look for him," was her sorrowful reply.

It was what he suspected and feared. He knew she had done the same
thing night after night for weeks past, even when the rains fell and
the chilling blasts made her shiver with discomfort. He could not
interpose, and with the reflection that perhaps it was as well, he
turned mournfully aside and walked slowly toward the cabins.

Meanwhile, Nellie Dawson passed beyond the limits of the settlement
until all the houses were behind her. She did not sit down, but
folding her arms, after gathering her shawl about her, bent her gaze
upon the trail, which wound in and out at the bottom of the canyon
below, for a fourth of a mile, when a mass of projecting rocks hid it
from sight.

Night was closing in. Already the grim walls, thousands of feet in
height, were wrapped in gloom, and few eyes beside hers could have
traced the devious mule path for more than a hundred yards from where
she stood. The clear sky was studded with stars, but the moon had not
yet climbed from behind the towering peaks, which would shut out its
light until near the zenith.

The soft murmur of the distant waterfall, the sound of voices behind
her, the faint, hollow roar, which always is present in a vast
solitude, filled the great space around her and made the stillness
grander and more impressive.

All this had been in her ears many a time before, and little heed did
she give to it now. Her musings were with that loved one, who had been
silent for so many weeks, and for whose coming she longed with an
unspeakable longing. She knew the course of the trail so well, though
she had never been far over it, that she was aware at what point he
must first appear, if he ever appeared, and upon that point she
centered her attention.

"Something tells me that when father comes it will be in the night
time," she said; "I know he has tried hard to reach me, and what
could it be that held him back? I will not believe he is dead
until--"

Her he