self that it was a delightful
outlook; that she was a very happy girl indeed--and wondered why she was
not happier!

Particularly she laid it upon herself that she must now, finally,
dismiss Dennison Grant from her mind. It was absurd to suppose that
she cared more for Grant than she did for Transley. The two men were so
different; it was impossible to make comparisons. They occupied quite
different spheres in her regard. To be sure, Grant was a very likeable
man, but he was not eligible as a husband, and she could not marry two,
in any case. Zen entertained no girlish delusions about there being only
one man in the world. On the contrary, she was convinced that there
were very many men in the world, and, among the better types, there was,
perhaps, not so much to choose between them. Grant would undoubtedly be
a good husband within his means; so would Transley, and his means were
greater. The blue-prints of the new house in town had not been without
their effect. It was a different prospect from being a foreman's wife on
a ranch. Her father would never hear of it....

So she busied herself with preparations for the great event, and what
preparations they were! "Zen," her father had said, "for once the lid is
off. Go the limit!" She took him at his word. There were many trips
to town, and activities about the old ranch buildings such as they had
never known since Jessie Wilson came to finish Y.D.'s up-bringing, nor
even then. The good word spread throughout the foothill country and down
over the prairies, and many a lazy cloud of dust lay along the November
hillsides as the women folk of neighboring ranches came to pay their
respects and gratify their curiosity. Zen had treasures to show which
sent them home with new standards of extravagance.

Y.D. had not thought he could become so worked up over a simple matter
like a wedding. Time had dulled the edge of memory, but even after
making allowances he could not recall that his marriage to Jessie Wilson
had been such an event in his life as this. It did not at least reflect
so much glory upon him personally. He basked in the reflected glow of
his daughter's beauty and popularity, as happily as the big cat lying
on the sunny side of the bunk-house. He found all sorts of excuses for
invading where his presence was little wanted while Zen's finery
was being displayed for admiration. Y.D. always pretended that such
invasions were quite accidental, and affected a fine indiffe