s.

The first week took the party north into the park country. Two days of
the time, on horses, partly, put everyone in love with the Rockies. On
Saturday they reached the main line again, and at Sleepy Cat,
Superintendent Blood joined the party for the desert run to the Heart
Mountains. Glover already felt the fatigue of the unusual week, nor
could any ingenuity make the desert interesting to strenuous people.
Its beauties are contemplative rather than pungent, and the travellers
were frankly advised to fall back on books and ping-pong. Crawling
across an interminable alkali basin in the late afternoon their train
was laid out a long time by a freight wreck.

Weary of the car, Gertrude Brock, after the sun had declined, was
walking alone down the track when Glover came in sight. She started
for the train, but Glover easily overtook her. Since he had joined the
party they had not exchanged one word.

"I wonder whether you have ever seen anything like these, Miss Brock?"
he asked, coming up to her. She turned; he had a handful of small,
long-stemmed flowers of an exquisite blue.

"How beautiful!" she exclaimed, moved by surprise. "What are they?"

"Desert flowers."

"Such a blue."

"You expressed a regret this morning----"

"Oh, you heard----"

"I overheard----"

"What are they called?"

"I haven't an idea. But once in the Sioux country--" They were at the
car-step. "Marie? See here," she called to her sister within.

"Won't you take them?" asked Glover.

"No, no. I----"

"With an apology for my----"

"Marie, dear, do look here----"

"--Stupidity the other day?"

"How shall I ever reach that step?" she exclaimed, breaking in upon her
own words and obstinately buffeting his own as she gazed with more than
necessary dismay at the high vestibule tread.

"Would you hold the flowers a moment--" he asked--her sister appeared
at the door--"so I may help you?" continued the patient railroad man.

"See, Marie, these dear flowers!" Marie clapped her hands as she ran
forward. He held the flowers up. "Are they for me?" she cried.

"Will you take them?" he asked, as she bent over the guard-rail. "Oh,
gladly." He turned instantly, but Gertrude had gained the step.
"Thank you, thank you," exclaimed Marie. "What is their name, Mr.
Glover?"

"I don't know any name for them except an Indian name. The Sioux, up
in their country, call them sky-eyes."

"Sky-eyes! _Isn't_ that dear? sky-eyes.