had
openly cajoled and flirted with Henry Anderson past a point which was
agreeable for any man to see his sweetheart go with another man With
Peter Morrison she had been unspeakably charming in a manner with which
John was very familiar.

He turned up his coat collar, thrust his hands in his pockets, and swore
softly. Looking straight ahead of him, he should have seen a stretch of
level sidewalk, bordered on one hand by lacy, tropical foliage, on the
other, by sheets of level green lawn, broken everywhere by the uprising
boles of great trees, clumps of rare vines, and rows of darkened homes,
attractive in architectural 'design' vine covered, hushed for the night.
What he really saw was a small plateau, sun illumined, at the foot of a
mountain across the valley, where the lilac wall was the bluest, where
the sun shone slightly more golden than anywhere else in the valley,
where huge live oaks outstretched rugged arms, where the air had a tang
of salt, a tinge of sage, an odor of orange, shot through with snowy
coolness, thrilled with bird song, and the laughing chuckle of a big
spring breaking from the foot of the mountain. They had left the road
and followed a narrow, screened path by which they came unexpectedly
into this opening. They had stood upon it in wordless enchantment,
looking down the slope beneath it, across the peace of the valley, to
the blue ranges beyond.

"Just where are we?" Peter Morrison had asked at last.

John Gilman had been looking at a view which included Eileen. She lifted
her face, flushed and exquisite, to Peter Morrison and answered in a
breathless undertone, yet John had distinctly heard her:

"How wonderful it would be if we were at your house. Oh, I envy the
woman who shares this with you!"

It had not been anything in particular, yet all day it had teased John
Gilman's sensibilities. He felt ashamed of himself for not being more
enthusiastic as he searched records and helped to locate the owner of
that particular spot. To John, there was a new tone in Peter's voice,
a possessive light in his eyes as he studied the location, and made
excursions in several directions, to fix in his mind the exact position
of the land.

He had indicated what he considered the topographical location for a
house--stood on it facing the valley, and stepped the distance suitably
far away to set a garage and figured on a short private road down to the
highway. He very plainly was deeply prepossessed with