ng her to and from the
saddle, or putting his arm about her to support her on the way, were
performed with such grace of courtesy as to remove all personality from
his touch, and she marvelled at it while she sat and rested and watched
him from the distance watering Billy at a noisy little stream that
chattered through the canyon.

He put her on the horse again and they took their way through the
coolness and beauty of the canyon winding along the edge of the little
stream, threading their way among the trees, and over boulders and rough
places until at last in the late afternoon they came out again upon the
plain.

The missionary looked anxiously at the sun. It had taken longer to come
through the canyon than he had anticipated. The day was waning. He
quickened Billy into a trot and settled into a long athletic run beside
him, while the girl's cheeks flushed with the exercise and wind, and her
admiration of her escort grew.

"But aren't you very tired?" she asked at last when he slowed down and
made Billy walk again. Billy, by the way, had enjoyed the race
immensely. He thought he was having a grand time with a princess on his
back and his beloved master keeping pace with him. He was confident by
this time that they were bringing the princess home to be there to
welcome them on all returns hereafter. His horse-sense had jumped to a
conclusion and approved most heartily.

"Tired!" answered Brownleigh and laughed; "not consciously. I'm good for
several miles yet myself. I haven't had such a good time in three years,
not since I left home--and mother," he added softly, reverently.

There was a look in his eyes that made the girl long to know more. She
watched him keenly and asked:

"Oh, then you have a mother!"

"Yes, I have a mother,--a wonderful mother!" He breathed the words like
a blessing. The girl looked at him in awe. She had no mother. Her own
had died before she could remember. Aunt Maria was her only idea of
mothers.

"Is she out here?" she asked.

"No, she is at home up in New Hampshire in a little quiet country town,
but she is a wonderful mother."

"And have you no one else, no other family out here with you?"

Hazel did not realize how anxiously she awaited the answer to that
question. Somehow she felt a jealous dislike of any one who might belong
to him, even a mother--and a sudden thought of sister or wife who might
share the little shanty cabin with him made her watch his face narrowly.
But