ododendron--endless stretches
of the glossy undergrowth fringing every woodland, every diamond-clear
water-course.

"It must be charming when it's in blossom," he said, drawing the sweet
air of the uplands deep into his lungs. "These streams look exceedingly
like trout, too. How high are we?"

"Two thousand feet in the pass, Kelly. The hills are much higher. You
need blankets at night...." She turned her head and smilingly considered
him:

"I can't yet believe you are here."

"I've been trying to realise it, too."

"Did you come in your favourite cloud?"

"No; on an exceedingly dirty train."

"You've a cinder mark on your nose."

"Thanks." He gave her his handkerchief and she wiped away the smear.

"How long can you stay?--Oh, don't answer! Please forget I asked you.
When you've got to go just tell me a few minutes before your
departure.... The main thing in life is to shorten unhappiness as much
as possible. That is Rita's philosophy."

"Is Rita well?"

"Perfectly--thanks to your bonbons. She doesn't precisely banquet on the
fare here--poor dear! But then," she added, philosophically, "what can a
girl expect on eight dollars a week? Besides, Rita has been spoiled. I
am not unaccustomed to fasting when what is offered does not interest
me."

"You mean that boarding house of yours in town?"

"Yes. Also, when mother and I kept house with an oil stove and two rooms
the odour of medicine and my own cooking left me rather indifferent to
the pleasures of Lucullus."

"You poor child!"

"Not at all to be pitied--as long as I had mother," she said, with a
quiet gravity that silenced him.

Up, up, and still up they climbed, the fat horse walking leisurely,
nipping at blackberry leaves here, snatching at tender maple twigs
there. The winged mountain beauties--Diana's butterflies--bearing on
their velvety, blue-black pinions the silver bow of the goddess, flitted
ahead of the horse--celestial pilots to the tree-clad heights beyond.

Save for the noise of the horse's feet and the crunch of narrow,
iron-tired wheels, the stillness was absolute under the azure splendour
of the heavens.

"I am not yet quite at my ease--quite accustomed to it," she said.

"To what, Valerie?"

"To the stillness; to the remote horizons.... At night the vastness of
things, the height of the stars, fascinate me to the edge of uneasiness.
And sometimes I go and sit in my room for a while--to reassure
myself.... You see I am used t