Three hours and a half afterward it suddenly occurred to him that she might have thought he had blushed and lowered his head because he was ashamed to be seen by this other girl in her company; but it was then too late.

The train pulled out.  The Westerners at once scattered in all directions.  Half an hour later the choking cloud dusts rose like smoke from the different trails that led north or south or west to the heart of the Hills.

“The picnic is over,” he suggested gently at their noon camping place.

“Yes, thank Heaven!”

“You remember your promise?”

“What promise?”

“That you would explain your ‘mystery.’”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

A leaf floated slowly down the wind.  A raven croaked.  The breeze made the sunbeams waver.

“Mary, the picnic is over,” he repeated again very gently.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

“I love you, Mary.”

The raven spread his wings and flew away.

“Do you love me?” he insisted gently.

“I want you to come to dinner at our house to-morrow noon.”

“That is a strange answer, Mary.”

“It is all the answer you’ll get to-day.”

“Why are you so cross?  Is anything the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“I love you, Mary.  I love you, girl.  At least I can say that now.”

“Yes, you can say it—­now.”

CHAPTER XVI

A NOON DINNER

Bennington did not know what to make of his invitation.  At one moment he told himself it must mean that Mary loved him, and that she wished him to meet her parents on that account.  At the next he tormented himself with the conviction that she thus merely avoided the issue.  Between these moods he alternated, without being able to abide in either.  He forgot all about Old Mizzou.

Promptly at noon the following day he turned up the little right-hand trail for the first time.

The Lawton house he found, first of all, to be scrupulously neat.  It stood on a knoll, as do most gulch cabins, in order that occasional freshets might pass below, and the knoll looked as though it had been clipped with a pair of scissors.  Not a crooked little juniper bush was allowed to intrude its plebeian sprawl among the dignified pines and the gracefully infrequent bushes.  In front of the cabin itself was a “rockery” of pink quartz, on which were piled elk antlers.  The building was L-shaped, of two low stories, had a veranda with a railing, and possessed various ornamental wood edgings, all of which were painted.  The whole affair was mathematically squared and correspondingly neat.  Some boxes and pots of flowers adorned the window ledges.

Bennington’s knock was answered by an elderly woman, who introduced herself at once as Mrs. Lawton.  She commenced a voluble and slightly embarrassed explanation of how “she” would be down in a moment or so, at the same time leading the way into the parlour.  While this explanation was going forward, Bennington had a good chance to examine his hostess and her surroundings.