their hearts gay and surcharged with something sweeter than mere
gaiety, they made their way steadily, he always above, she just below
him and carrying the parcel done up in a newspaper.

"You might at least let me carry our baggage upon our journey," he
offered more than once. But she insisted that this too was a part of
the secret.

At last he came to the limb that lay out across the ledge of rock and
would have kept on climbing, he was so busy looking down at the rosy
face that was looking up at him. But she commanded him to use his eyes
for something else than just to make love with, and he understood.

"You mean to say you've been up here before? That you've gone out
across that sort of a bridge?" he exclaimed in amazement. "Aren't you
afraid of anything in the world, Wanda?"

"Yes," she answered. "Yes, to both questions. I'm inclined to be
afraid of spiders; I think that I'd be afraid of an alligator. And now
the secret!"

"A cave," he cried. "Way up here! How in the world did you happen to
find it?"

When he had crossed first and given his hand to her she came swiftly to
his side, thanked him with a nod and set him to work.

"This is my own private estate," she told him. "No one enters my
portals until he has been invited. You are not invited yet. In that
seam in the rock you will find plenty of wood and dry cones. If you'll
put them at the doorway I'll let you know when you can come in. And,
Wayne--"

"Yes?"

"No one knows of this place except we two. Keep behind the cedar,
won't you, so that if any one should be about you won't be seen?"

Wayne gathered great armfuls of wood, piled cones conveniently, and in
the meantime got no single glimpse of the interior of the cavern. For
Wanda had slipped within, had drawn over the wide opening the screen of
branches her own hands had made against the occasion, and was
completely hidden by that and the curtain which reinforced it against a
ray of light. He could hear her singing softly, happily as she went
back and forth. At last her voice came to him, calling merrily.

"You may come in, Mr. Shandon. Don't bring the wood with you yet; just
come to look and admire."

He thrust aside the screen, stepped through and his short exclamation
amply repaid her for the many hours of preparation.

A dozen tall candles burned here and there, set into niches in the
rough walls, gummed in their own grease to knobs of stone, their
pointed flames sta