"She did the last time I saw her--can't say how she feels now;
that's been about two years ago." He spoke lightly; but gazing into
the wonderful depths of Lahoma's eyes, he felt a queer sensation
like a lost heart-beat.

"Did she send you here as a kind of test?"

"Oh, no, she told me good-by and we parted forever. Both of us were
poor,--you can't live in the city if you're poor; you can BE poor
there, but not LIVE. By this time she's found some one with
property, I dare say--she's tremendously handsome and accomplished,
and has a very distinguished-looking mother and they have friends
in society--she'll make it all right, no doubt." His voice was
matter-of-fact even to indifference; but for all that, he seemed to
be deeply inhaling Lahoma's freshness of morning-rose sparkling with
dew.

"Does it pierce your heart to think of her marrying somebody else?"
Her voice was sweet with the dream-passion of a young girl.

"When I left home, I flung myself into the life of a cow-puncher
and did all I could to keep from thinking. So my heart's rather
callous by this time. I don't seem to mind like I thought I would
if I should sit down to think about it. That's what I've avoided
like the plague--sitting down to think about it. But I believe I
could sit down and think about it now, pretty calmly."

"Then that's what I'd do," Lahoma cried. "I'd just face it. She
isn't worthy of you if she'd rather have a fortune than the man she