ong the stumps of mahogany trees.
But there were few like her in that mountain town, and his chivalry
compelled him to go out of his way with every appearance of
cheerfulness. Presently the stage stopped where the sloping ground made
it very uncertain how long it could maintain its balance in that
position; and the voice of Dr. Earle was heard saying "This is the
place."

Mrs. Hastings, who had been looking out for some sign of home, was
seized with a doubt of the credibility of her senses. It was on the tip
of her tongue to say "This must be the house of some other Mr.
Hastings," when she remembered prudence, and said nothing. Getting out
and going toward the house to inquire, the door opened, and a man in a
rough mining suit came quickly forward to meet her.

"Alice!"

"Jack!"

Dr. Earle and the driver studiously looked the other way while
salutations were exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Hastings. When they
again ventured a look, the lady had disappeared within the cabin, the
first glimpse of which had so dismayed her.

That afternoon, Jack initiated Alice into the mysteries of cooking by an
open fire, and expatiated largely on the merits of his outside kitchen.
Alice hinted to him that she was accustomed to sleep on something softer
than a board, and the two went together to a store to purchase materials
out of which to make a mattress.

After that, for two or three weeks, Mrs. Hastings was industriously
engaged in wondering what her husband meant when he wrote that he had
built a house, and was getting things ready to receive her. Reason or
romance as she might, she could not make that single room of rough
boards, roofed with leaky canvas and unfurnished with a single comfort
of life, into a house or home. At last, Jack seemed to guess her
thoughts, for she never spoke them.

"If I could sell my mine," he then often said, "I could fix things up."

"If you sold your mine, Jack, you would go back to New York, and then
there would be no need of fixing up this place." Alice wanted to say
"horrid" place, but refrained.

At length, from uncongenial air, water, food, and circumstances in
general, the transplanted flower began to droop. The great heat and
rarified mountain air caused frantic headaches, aggravated by the glare
which came through the white canvas roof. Then came the sudden mountain
tempests, when the rain deluged everything, and it was hard to find a
spot to stand in where the water did not drip th