Ruth closed her hands on his, while her eyes grew wet.

“You mean it, Lee?”

“Ah, I do, I do!  I love you; I hold you dearer than anything in the world.”

The smile she gave was tender, trustful.

“I believe you,” she said.

She yielded to his arms.  Her head fell back upon his shoulder and her look lifted to his blissfully.  When he kissed her a thrill of passionate desire answered, as when on that fragrant evening in the canon he first had fiercely pressed her lips.  This was happiness—­happiness.  If it could but last forever!

“And my love is yours, too, Lee,” she exclaimed, so earnestly that he felt his heart quiver.  “I want to be happy; I want to be loved; I don’t want to live a life of just dreary commonplaceness, alone, uncared for, with no outlook, with no prospect of joys.  I want the most there is in happiness—­every girl wants that; and this monotonous existence has been robbing me, stifling me, until sometimes I’ve been wild enough to leap off a high rock.  But now!”

Bryant’s arms went closer about her.

“It shall be different now,” he murmured.

“Yes, yes; it must, it shall.  There’s no sense in people not being happy when the world was made for that very purpose.”

“Whenever you say, we’ll be married,” Lee stated.

Ruth was silent for a time, considering this.  It, indeed, left her a little startled.

“But it mustn’t be too soon,” she replied, at last.  “We had best go on as we are while your project is being started, for I wouldn’t be so selfish as to make a command on your time at a critical moment, Lee dear.  And I must plan clothes and things.  Knowing that happiness is ahead of us, oh, homesteading then will be only a lark!  I’ll never need follow it up, but just abandon it when we’re ready.  Kiss me again, Lee, and then we must start back.”

They retraced their steps down the canon, obtaining the basket of berries on the way.  Once, as they neared the cabins, Ruth paused, gazing at her lover.

“I had actually come to hate these claims,” she said.  “I felt chained to the spot, as if something would keep me in the miserable place for the rest of my life.  Had I known how lonely I should be here, I never would have come.”

“But that’s over now, Ruth.  A little while longer, that’s all.”

She gazed at him with an odd, intent, anxious expression upon her countenance.

“You’ll not let your irrigation project keep you here always?” she asked.  “Or live in other places like it?  These mountains and this desolate mesa get on my nerves.  If I thought you were going to stay away from other people, foregoing all the pleasures of cities and the like, I think I should lose my courage and not be able to love you enough to stand it.  I want you most of all, but shall want other things, too.”

He smiled indulgently.

“A few years perhaps,” he replied.  “Till I’m solid on my feet—­till I get going well—­we’re both young—­and then——­” He dismissed the matter with a wave of the hand.