He had said that the "furriner" cared nothing for her, and had dared
to tell her that she was in love with him. Her cheeks began to bum.
She would call him back and tell him that she cared no more for
the "furriner " than she did for him. She started from the steps, but
paused, straining her eyes through the darkness. It was too late,
and, with a helpless little cry, she began pacing the porch. She had
scarcely heard what was said after the mountaineer's first
accusation, so completely had that enthralled her mind; now
fragments came back to her. There was something about a
picture-ah! she remembered that picture. Passing through the
camp one afternoon, she had glanced in at a window and had seen
a rifle once her own. Turning in rapid wonder about the room, her
eye lighted upon a picture on a table near the window. She had
felt the refined beauty of the girl, and it had impressed her with the
same timidity that Clayton had when she first knew him.
Fascinated, she had looked till a - movement in the room made her
shrink away. But the face had clung in her memory ever since, and
now it came before her vividly. Clayton was in love with her.
Well, what did that matter to her?

There was more that Raines said. "Goin' away." Raines meant the
" furriner," of course. How did he know? Why had Clayton not told
her? She did not believe it. But why not? He had once told her
that he would go away some time; why not now? But why-why did
not Clayton tell her? Perhaps he was going to her. She almost
stretched out her hands in a sudden, fierce desire to clutch the
round throat and sink her nails into the soft flesh that rose before
her mind. She had forgotten that he had ever told her that he must
go away, so little had it impressed her at the time. She had never
thought of a possible change in their relations or in their lives. She