"Not even Gus Ingle's red, red gold?" she said rather more lightly than she had spoken.
"Not even Gus Ingle's red, red gold."
She looked at him long and curiously.
"You would do anything you could to make me happy? Anything, Mark?"
"I pray with all my heart and soul that I always may!"
Gloria seemed to rest through the noon hour and to brighten. When she saw him the second time look at the sun she got up from the ground and said: "Time to go on? I'm ready. And after that banquet I feel all me again!"
He laughed and went off after the horses, singing at the top of his voice. She stood very still, looking off after him, her brows puckering into a shadowy frown. Oh, if she could only read herself as he allowed her to read him; if she could only be as sure of Gloria as she was of Mark; if she could only look deep into her heart as she looked into his. But she could not! His heart was like the clear pool just yonder across which the sunshine lay and far down in which she could see the stones and pebbles as through so much clear glass; hers was like the rushing stream above, eddying and swirling and hiding itself under its own light spray. All day long she had tried to see what lay under the surface. Did she love Mark King? She had thrilled to him as she had thrilled to no other man; but that had been in the springtime.
Twice then she had been sure that she loved him. But that was so long ago. And now that she had allowed him to carry her out of the quicksands? What now? She was so borne down by all that she had lived through; he was so much a part of the mountainous solitudes towering about them. And was she one to love the wilderness--for long? Or did it not begin to bear down upon her uncertain spirit? Did it not menace and frighten and, in the end, would it not repel? Oh, if she had only let him go on alone this morning; if she had remained where she could rest and think and thus come to see clearly, even into her own troubled heart!
Their first hour after lunch led them through a region which, given over to silence itself, denied them any considerable opportunity for conversation. King rode ahead, turning off to the left from their resting-place by the pool, and riding through a sea of grey brush, following a narrow trail made by deer. Then the mountain-side reared its barrier and made all forward and upward progress slow and toilsome.