dictatorship. And when he
said, "If my father reaches Denver in time I want you to meet him," she
looked the dismay she felt.

"I'll do it--but I'm scared of him."

"You needn't be. I'll see him first and draw his fire."

Mrs. McFarlane interposed. "We must do a little shopping first. We can't
meet your father as we are."

"Very well. I'll go with you if you'll let me. I'm a great little
shopper. I have infallible taste, so my sisters say. If it's a case of
buying new hats, for instance, I'm the final authority with them." This
amused Berrie, but her mother took it seriously.

"Of course, I'm anxious to have my daughter make the best possible
impression."

"Very well. It is arranged. We get in, I find, about noon. We'll go
straight to the biggest shop in town. If we work with speed we'll be able
to lunch with my father. He'll be at the Palmer House at one."

Berrie said nothing, either in acceptance or rejection of his plan. Her
mind was concerned with new conceptions, new relationships, and when in
the hall he took her face between his hands and said, "Cheer up! All is
not lost," she put her arms about his neck and laid her cheek against his
breast to hide her tears. "Oh, Wayland! I'm such an idiot in the city.
I'm afraid your father will despise me."

What he said was not very cogent, and not in the least literary, but it
was reassuring and lover-like, and when he turned her over to her mother
she was composed, though unwontedly grave.

She woke to a new life next morning--a life of compliance, of following,
of dependence upon the judgment of another. She stood in silence while
her lover paid the bills, bought the tickets, and telegraphed their
coming to his father. She acquiesced when he prevented her mother from
telephoning to the ranch. She complied when he countermanded her order to
have the team sent back at once. His judgment ruled, and she enjoyed her
sudden freedom from responsibility. It was novel, and it was very sweet
to think that she was being cared for as she had cared for and shielded
him in the world of the trail.

In the little railway-coach, which held a score of passengers, she found
herself among some Eastern travelers who had taken the trip up the Valley
of the Flume in the full belief that they were piercing the heart of the
Rocky Mountains! It amused Wayland almost as much as it amused Berrie
when one man said to his wife:

"Well, I'm glad we've seen the Rockies."

"He really beli