The Call of the Canyon

Carley leaned her elbows on the table and gazed at him curiously and

admiringly. "Old fellow, you're a wonder. I can't tell you how proud I

am of you. That you could come West weak and sick, and fight your way to

health, and learn to be self-sufficient! It is a splendid achievement.

It amazes me. I don't grasp it. I want to think. Nevertheless I--"

"What?" he queried, as she hesitated.

"Oh, never mind now," she replied, hastily, averting her eyes.

The day was far spent when Carley returned to the Lodge--and in spite of

the discomfort of cold and sleet, and the bitter wind that beat in her

face as she struggled up the trail--it was a day never to be forgotten.

Nothing had been wanting in Glenn's attention or affection. He had been

comrade, lover, all she craved for. And but for his few singular words

about work and children there had been no serious talk. Only a play day

in his canyon and his cabin! Yet had she appeared at her best? Something

vague and perplexing knocked at the gate of her consciousness.