at was what the war was over, wasn't it?--"

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

"Then you have been thinking, too?... I am so glad!" In the growing
light he could see the moisture in her bright eyes glisten, and it
seemed to him this wild, daring daughter of the hills had never been
lovelier than in this moment of confession and of high resolve.

"I am so glad," she repeated, "for your sake--and for my own. Now,
again, you are really the Man-on-the-Hill. We have been in the valley of
late. You can go ahead now with your high plans, with your Big Idea. You
will marry Miss Bruce, and forget."

"I shall remember with chastened memory, but I shall never forget," he
said at length. "I shall never forget Zen of the Y.D. And you--what will
you do?"

"I have the boy. I did not realize how much I had until to-night.
Suddenly it came upon me that he was everything. You won't understand,
Dennison, but as we grow older our hearts wrap up around our children
with a love quite different from that which expresses itself in
marriage. This love gives--gives--gives, lavishly, unselfishly, asking
nothing in return."

"I think I understand," he said again. "I think I do."

They turned their eyes to the mountains, and as they looked the first
shafts of sunlight fell on the white peaks and set them dazzling like
mighty diamond-points against the blue bosom of the West. Slowly the
flood of light poured down their mighty sides and melted the mauve
shadows of the valley. Suddenly a ray of the morning splendor shot
through the little window in the eastern wall of the living-room and
fell fairly upon the woman's head, crowning her like a halo of the
Madonna.

"It is morning on the mountains--and on you!" Grant exclaimed. "Zen, you
are very, very beautiful." He raised her hand and pressed her fingers to
his lips.

As they stood watching the sunlight pour into the valley a sharp knock
sounded on the door. "Come," said Dennison, and the next moment it
swung open and Phyllis Bruce entered, followed immediately by Linder. A
question leapt into her eyes at the remarkable situation which greeted
them, and she paused in embarrassment.

"Phyllis!" Grant exclaimed. "You here!"

"It would seem that I was not expected."

"It is all very simple," Grant explained, with a laugh. "Little Willie
Transley was my guest overnight. On account of the storm his mother
became alarmed, and drove out from the city early this morning for him.
Mrs. Transley,