humility and awe. When God lays His hand upon
the sky the dimmest eye sees and the most skeptical heart believes!

She was saying as much in substance to him as they rode homeward in the
soft afterglow, her face transfigured by the reverence in her heart. He
assented gravely, his eyes dwelling admiringly upon her rare beauty. In
the hallowing light of the hour she was invested with a new charm to
this appreciative Pantheist and from some pigeon-hole of his
well-stocked and retentive memory called the almost-inspired voice of
old Ossian:

"Fair was Colna-Dona, the daughter of kings,
Her soul was a pure beam of light!"

Unconsciously he put his thought into words and the voice was very
gentle. She looked at him dubiously, almost apprehensively; it was hard
to differentiate between this man's cynicism and sincerity. Then she
dropped her eyes in rosy confusion, her heart leaping unaccountably.

"That was a false note the Psalmist struck," he went on quietly, "when
he sang of the wrath of his God. It were better he had dwelt only on the
sweeter quantity of His love. I am sorry for that devotion inspired only
by fear. _This_ is the manifestation best calculated to insure one's
keeping in the right trail." He swept his hand comprehensively toward
the western glory. "Men do not love the thing they fear--nor women
either." His tone was quizzical and challenging.

She looked up in sudden relief; this was more familiar ground and she
laughed with sudden audacity.

"How do you know?"

"About women? Well, I'll admit that was a bluff; but I know all about
men; I am one of them! The divinity that shapes our ends must kiss, not
kick!"

At this unconscious confirmation of old Abigail's sage conclusions her
laugh pealed out merrily. "Feed 'em well, speak 'em kind, an' give 'em
theah haids on a hawd pull er in a tight place," she quoted with
inimitable mimicry, and he grinned with quick understanding.

"Good old Abbie! I wonder who she loved enough to learn all that? And so
you've been taking lessons, too!"

"I thought we had done with that," she said almost pleadingly. "You make
it very hard for me!"

Instantly he was all contrition. "Forgive me! I shall not offend again."
She took his extended hand frankly and for a time they rode in silence.
The narrow canyon trail necessitated their riding very closely together
and occasionally his leathern chaps brushed against her. Once, as they
rounded an abrupt turn, the