how she had come to do it, felt aggrieved and sought to
justify herself:

"But we can't live here always. If we make money we'll want to go back
some day where there are people, and comforts and things going on.
We'll want friends, everybody has friends. You don't mean for us
always to stay far away from everything in these wild, uncivilized
places?"

"Why not?" he said, not looking at her, noting her rueful tone and
resenting it.

"But we're not that kind of people. You're not a real mountain man.
You're not like Zavier or the men at Fort Laramie. You're Napoleon
Duchesney just as I'm Susan Gillespie. Your people in St. Louis and
New Orleans were ladies and gentlemen. It was just a wild freak that
made you run off into the mountains. You don't want to go on living
that way. That part of your life's over. The rest will be with me."

"And you'll want the cities and the parties?"

"I'll want to live the way Mrs. Duchesney should live, and you'll want
to, too." He did not answer, and she gave his arm a little shake and
said, "Won't you?"

"I'm more Low Courant than I am Napoleon Duchesney," was his answer.

"Well, maybe so, but whichever you are, you've got a wife now and
_that_ makes a great difference."

She tried to infuse some of her old coquetry into the words, but the
eyes, looking sideways at him, were troubled, for she did not yet see
where she had erred.

"I guess it does," he said low, more as if speaking to himself than her.

This time she said nothing, feeling dashed and repulsed. They
continued to sit close together on the rock, the man lost in morose
reverie, the girl afraid to move or touch him lest he should show
further annoyance.

The voice of Daddy John calling them to supper came to both with
relief. They walked to the camp side by side, Low with head drooped,
the girl at his elbow stealing furtive looks at him. As they
approached the fire she slid her hand inside his arm and, glancing
down, he saw the timid questioning of her face and was immediately
contrite. He laid his hand on hers and smiled, and she caught her
breath in a deep sigh and felt happiness come rushing back. Whatever
it was she had said that displeased him she would be careful not to say
it again, for she had already learned that the lion in love is still
the lion.

CHAPTER II

Their claim was rich and they buckled down to work, the old man
constructing a rocker after a model of his own, and Coura