panorama! This is worth coming a thousand miles to
see."

Visibly pleased, Mrs. Williams smiled:

"I hope you will afford me the privilege of entertaining you a few
days. We could show you views still more beautiful."

Brockton bowed.

"You are very kind, madame. I regret exceedingly that business calls me
immediately back to New York."

"But not before you've shown us your skill at bridge," she laughed.
"We're having a game inside now. I'll be pleased to have you join us."

"I shall be delighted," he bowed.

The old lady reentered the house to join her friends, and he turned
quickly to Laura:

"When can you get ready?"

She made no answer. Apparently she had not heard. Sitting at the end of
the terrace, she leaned over the balustrade of the porch, looking
intently into the canon below, as if expecting to see some one, her
eyes shielded with her hands from the hot afternoon sun. Approaching
her, Brockton repeated the question.

"When can you get ready?"

She started as if suddenly surprised in some secret reverie.

"Ready? What for?"

"Why--to go back to New York, of course."

"New York?" she echoed.

"Yes," he said mockingly, "New York. Why, Laura, what's the matter? You
seem dazed. Didn't you ever hear of a little old place called New
York?"

She laughed nervously.

"Don't be silly." Passing her hand over her forehead, she said: "I'm a
little stupid to-day--I think it's the sun."

At that moment a maid servant approached the broker.

"Mrs. Williams wishes me to show you to your room, sir," she said.

"All right," replied Brockton, turning to follow her. To Laura, he
said: "I'll go and brush up. Wait for me here. I'll be back in a
minute."

Laura sat motionless, watching the winding road, which, like a long,
undulating ribbon, led up the declivity out of the valley. Straining
her eyes, she tried to make out the little cloud of dust that would
warn her of John's approach. She wondered what detained him. He said he
would come at four o'clock, and now it was nearly five. Yet, perhaps,
it was just as well. It would hardly do for the men to meet until she
had had her talk with Will. The critical moment had come. She must tell
Brockton everything. Nothing must be held back. He must be told that
she had finished with him forever.

In a few minutes Brockton reappeared, smoking a cigar. Clean-shaven and
comfortable in a Tuxedo coat, he had the air of a man at peace with
himself and the whole worl