“You darling!” fatuously.  “Carlotta, will you marry me?”

It was out at last—­the words she claimed she had brought him up the mountain to say—­the words he had willed not to speak.

“Of course.  Kiss me again, Phil.  We’ll wire Daddy tomorrow.”

“Wire him what?” The mention of Carlotta’s father brought Phil back to earth with a jolt.

“That we are engaged and that he is to find a suitable job for you so we can be married right away,” chanted Carlotta happily.

Phil’s rainbow vanished almost as soon as it had appeared in the heavens.  He drew a long breath.

“Carlotta, I didn’t mean that.  I can’t be engaged to you that way.  I meant—­will you marry me when I can afford to have a fairy princess in my home?”

Carlotta stared at him, her rainbow, too, fading.

“You did?” she asked vaguely.  “I thought—­”

“I know,” groaned Phil.  “It was stupid of me—­worse than stupid.  It can’t be helped now I suppose.  The damage is done.  Shall we take the next car down?  It is getting late.”

He rose and put out both hands to help her to her feet.  For a moment they stood silent in front of the gray bowlder.  The end of the world seemed to have come for them both.  It was like Humpty Dumpty.  All the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t restore things to their old state nor bring back the lost happiness of that one perfect moment when they had belonged to each other without reservations.  Carlotta put out her hand and touched Philip’s.

“Don’t feel too badly, Phil,” she said.  “As you say, it can’t be helped—­nothing can be helped.  It just had to be this way.  We can’t either of us make ourselves over or change the way we look at things and want things.  I wish I were different for both our sakes.  I wish I were big enough and brave enough and fine enough to say I would marry you anyway, and stop being a princess.  But I don’t dare.  I know myself too well.  I might think I could do it up here where it is all still and purple and sweet and sacred.  But when we got down to the valley again I am afraid I couldn’t live up to it, nor to you, Philip, my king.  Forgive me.”

Phil bent and kissed her again—­not passionately this time, but with a kind of reverent solemnity as if he were performing a rite.

“Never mind, sweetheart.  I don’t blame you any more than you blame me.  We’ve got to take life as we find it, not try to make it over into something different to please ourselves.  If some day you meet the man who can make you happy in your way, I’ll not grudge him the right.  I’m not sure I shall even envy him.  I’ve had my moment.”

“But Phil, you aren’t going to be awfully unhappy about me?” sighed Carlotta.  “Promise you won’t.  You know I never wanted to hurt the moon, dear.”

Philip shook his head.

“Don’t worry about the moon.  It is a tough old orb.  I shan’t be too unhappy.  A man has a whole lot of things beside love in his life.  I am not going to let myself be such a fool as to be miserable because things started out a little differently from what I would like to have them.”  His smile was brave but his eyes belied the smile and Carlotta’s heart smote her.