was an excellent thing, considering the wild and daring idea which had
flashed across her mind. If Hanson but knew that his wife had left
Colina no power on earth could prevent him from immediately journeying
thither. Should she mention the fact in a letter to her mother? She
debated this for a day or two, the temptation to do so was almost
overmastering, but her pride finally triumphed in the struggle, and she
left the matter on the knees of the gods.

Yet, in the depths of her wild heart, she knew that he would come, that
he must long have awaited just such an opportunity, and she had no doubt
that he kept himself informed of the movements of the woman who bore his
name. Her spirits rose in the contemplation of glorious moments when she
should live to the full again, when she should feel herself to be as a
quickened and soaring flame of passion and intrigue. And what an
opportunity! Her father was down at the Mont d'Or all day. Hughie, of
course, was about most of the time, but she would not meet Hanson in the
cabin, but out in the golden October weather among the pines. Bob Flick
was returning to the desert the next day, so she had nothing to fear
from him.

Several days, almost a week, passed, and then a letter from Hanson,
telling her of Mrs. Hanson's departure, and assuring her that he meant
to come to Colina, that he would not stop to consider any risks he might
be taking, and that he was equally indifferent to her possible
prohibition. He was coming, coming on the morning train the next
Thursday, and this was Saturday.

She drew a long breath and pressed the letter to her heart. She would
never yield to him, never; not so long as that barrier to a marriage
between himself and herself--Mrs. Hanson--remained a legal wall between