re afoot. It is dangerous with all these
tramp miners coming and going."

"Well, don't scold--I'm here safe and sound."

"I haven't had such a turn for years, Viola," the mother explained, as
they waited side by side along the narrow walk. "I had an
_impression_--so vivid--that I dropped my work and ran to find you. It
was just as if you called me, asking for help. It seemed to me that
some dreadful thing had happened to you."

"But nothing did. I went up to see the sunset. I didn't meet a soul."
She ended abruptly, for she did not wish to retrace her sad reverie.

"Who were the two men who came down just now? They must have passed
you."

"Yes, they passed me--I didn't know them. The one behind looked like
an 'expert.' Perhaps he has come to examine the San Luis mine. Some
one said they were expecting a man from England."

"He looked more like a Frenchman to me."

"It may be he is," answered Viola, restrainedly.

They turned in at a rustic gateway opening into the yard of a small
and very pretty log-cabin which seemed a toy house, so minute was it
in contrast to the mighty, fir-decked wall of gray and yellow rock
behind it. Flowers had been planted along the path, and through the
open door a red-shaded lamp shone like a poppy. Plainly it was the
home of refined and tasteful women, a place where tall, rude men
entered timidly and with apologies.

"Was there any mail?" asked the girl, as she put aside her hat.

"Not a thing."

The shadow deepened on her small, sensitive face. "Oh, why _don't_ the
girls write? they should know how horribly lonely it is here. I'm
tired of everything to-day, mother--perfectly stone-blue. I don't like
what I am; I'm tired of church-work and the people here. I want to go
back East; I want to change my life completely."

The mother, a handsome woman, with fresh, unlined face, made no reply
to this outburst. "Gusta won't be back until late; we will have to get
our own supper."

The girl seemed rather pleased at this opportunity to do something,
and went to her work cheerfully, moving with such grace and lightness
that the mother stood in doting admiration to watch her; she was so
tall and lithe and full-bosomed--her one treasure.

As she worked, the shadow again lifted from the girl's face, a smile
came back to her scarlet lips, and she sang underbreath as only a
young maiden can sing to whom love is a wonder and marriage a far-off
dream.

She recalled the look which lay on t