The Greeley tribune., 1905-12-21

the sense of being alone ut sea. In.
tuitively she turned and looked at
i'eter riding beside her. There was
something in his face that made her
look again before accepting the realiza-
tion' ut hrst incredulously. then with
frank amusement. Peter had scarcely
spoken since they left the ranch. She
had come down to breakfast so sure Of
her new riding habit. The Wetmore
girls had been moved to hyperboles
about its cut and fit and the trim short
ness OF the Skirt-shOrt riding skirts
were something Of n novelty thenA The
fine gold hair, twisted tight ut the back
OF the shapely head, >vas like a coiled
mass OF FURNISHED metal, some safe
keeping device of mint or gold worker
till the season of coming or fashioning
should come round. The delicate firm
ness of profile gave to the face the ar
tifcial perfection of an old miniature
rather than of flesh and blood coun-
tenance, and all these were there as
OF yore, but the marvel Of them failed
of the customary tribute.
Kitty, on scanty reflection, was at
no loss to translate Peters reserve into
language at once flattering and retrib-
utive. In her scheme of life he was
always to be her devoted cavalier, as
indeed he had been from the beginning.
She loved her own small eminence too
we'll to imperil her tenure Of 1t by
sharing its pretty view Of men and
things with any one. She loved the
star part and next to playing it she
enjoyed wrestling it from other women
or eclipsing them completely in some
conspicuously minor role, while, in
the matter Of dress. Miss Colebrooke
went beyond the point decreed by the
most exigent mandates of fashion. She
danced with the same facility with
which she rode, swan and played ten
mis-. In doing these things supremely
well she felt that she vindicated the
position of the woman Of letters. Why
should one be trump because one
wrote?
Her friendship with Peter was to
endure to greenest old age, more pla-
tonic, perhaps, than that of Nine
Recamier and Chateaubriand. 1t was
to be fruitful in letters that would
compare favorably with the best of
the seventeenth century series. Even
now her own letters to Peter were no
sprightly scrawl Of passing events, but
efforts whose seriousness suggested, al
least in their carefully elaborated
stages of structure, the letters Of the
ladies of Crawford.
But in the course of these western
wanderings, undertaken not wholly
without consideration of Peter. there
had appeared in the maplike exactness
of her plans an indefinite territory that
threatened mdreamed OF proportions.
The unknown quantity was none other
than the frequent and irritating men
ton of one Judith Rodney, who, from
all accounts, appeared half breed.
Her name. her beauty, some intrinsic
charm of personality, made her an all
too frequent topic, except in the case
Of Peter. He had been singularly keen
in scenting any interrogatory venue
that led to the mysterious half breed;
when questioned he persistently re-
fused to exhibit her as type.
nifty AACW lAIAt bASC A<AA kAS"eSN AhSi
long suffering cavalier with scant con-
sideration the day be had spurred
across the desert TO see her. True, she
had written him on her arrival. but
with feminine perversity Of logic
thought 1t q trifie inconsiderate Of him
to come SO soon after that trying rail
road Journey. She intended to salve
her conscience at the wolf hunt for
her casual reception Of his impetuous
visit But apparently Peter did not
intend to be prodigal Of opportunity.
How garrulous you people are this
morningw Mamie Wetmore challenged
them Peter came out Of his brown
study with the look of one who has
again returned to earth.
You don't find 1t like the drop cur
tain of a theater, now that you've seen
it," he questioned Kitty. For she had
doubted her pleasure in the mountains
in the conviction that they would be
too dramatic for her simple taste.
Kitty closed her eyes and sighted the
peaks as il she We're getting the color
scheme for an afternoon toilet.
Mass, bulk, rather than line. No,
it's not like drop curtain. but It's dis
tinctly hand painted All it needs is a
stag surveying the prospect from that
great cliff It's the kind Of thing that
would sound well in a description. Oh.
l assure you l intend to make lavish
use of it. but it leaves nothing to ones
poor imagination"
Peter had distinct feeling Of being
annoyed. No. she could not appreciate
the mountains any more than they
could appreciate her. They were incon-
gruous, antipathetic, antipodal. Kitty
in her pink and white and flaxen pref
tiness and her trim habit was In har-
mony with the bride path of city
park. In this great, lonely country she
was an alien. He thought Of Judith
and the night they had climbed Horse
Thief trail, of her quiet endurance. her
keen pleasure in the wild beauty Of the
,,i,ht hpr Cuolffy Of cOmDauiOnSliD,