ound something very interesting in his bronzed skin and in
the big black hat which he held in his hands.

On his part Harold did not care--he scarcely noticed these figures.
Their whispers were as unimportant as the sound of aspen leaves, their
footfalls as little to be heeded as those of rabbits on the pine needles
of his camp. Before him sat the one human being in the world who could
command him and she was absorbed in interest of his story. He grew to a
tense, swift, eager narration as he went on. It pleased him to see her
glow with interest and enthusiasm over the sights and sounds of the wild
country. At last he ended.

"And so--I feel as though I could settle down--if I only had you. The
trail got lonesome that last year--I didn't suppose it would--but it
did. After three years of it I was glad to get back to my old friends,
the Reynolds. I thought of you every day--but I didn't listen to hear
you sing, because I thought you were King's wife--I didn't want to hear
about you ever--but that's all past now--I am here and you are here.
Will you go back to the mountains with me this time?"

She looked away. "Come and see me to-morrow, I must think of this. It is
so hard to decide--our lives are so different----" She arose abruptly.
"I must go now. Come into the concert, I'm going to sing." She glanced
at him in a sad, half-smiling way. "I can't sing If I Were a Voice for
you, but perhaps you'll like my aria better."

As they walked along the corridor together they formed a singularly
handsome couple. He was clad in a well-worn but neat black suit, which
he wore with grace. His big-rimmed black hat was crushed in his left
hand. Mary was in pale blue which became her well, and on her softly
rounded face a thoughtful smile rested. She always walked with uncommon
dignity, and the eyes of many young men followed her. There was
something about her companion not quite analyzable to her city
friends--something alien and savage and admirable.

Entering the hall they found it well filled, but Mary secured a seat
near the side door for Harold, and with a smile said, "I may not see you
till to-morrow. Here is my address. Come up early. At three. I want a
long talk with you."

Left to himself the plainsman looked around the hall which seemed a
splendid and spacious one to him. It was filled with ladies in beautiful
costumes, and with men in clawhammer coats. He had seen pictures of
evening suits in the newspapers but never be