He sat there for some moments with his eyes bent upon the two forks of the red road that diverged below him, but which appeared to become whiter and more dazzling as he searched their distance.  There was nothing to be seen except an occasional puff of dust which eventually revealed a horseman or a long trailing cloud out of which a solitary mule, one of a pack-train of six or eight, would momentarily emerge and be lost again.  Then he suddenly heard his name called, and, looking up, saw Mrs. Horncastle, who had halted a few paces from him between two columns of the long-drawn aisle of pines.

In that mysterious half-light she seemed such a beautiful and goddess-like figure that his consciousness at first was unable to grasp anything else.  She was always wonderfully well dressed, but the warmth and seclusion of this mountain morning had enabled her to wear a light gown of some delicate fabric which set off the grace of her figure, and even pardoned the rural coquetry of a silken sash around her still slender waist.  An open white parasol thrown over her shoulder made a nimbus for her charming head and the thick coils of hair under her lace-edged hat.  He had never seen her look so beautiful before.  And that thought was so plainly in his frank face and eyes as he sprang to his feet that it brought a slight rise of color to her own cheek.

“I saw you climbing up here as I passed in the coach a few minutes ago,” she said, with a smile, “and as soon as I had shaken the dust off I followed you.”

“Where’s Kitty?” he stammered.

The color faded from her face as it had come, and a shade of something like reproach crept into her dark eyes.  And whatever it had been her purpose to say, or however carefully she might have prepared herself for this interview, she was evidently taken aback by the sudden directness of the inquiry.  Barker saw this as quickly, and as quickly referred it to his own rudeness.  His whole soul rushed in apology to his face as he said, “Oh, forgive me!  I was anxious about Kitty; indeed, I had thought of coming again to Boomville, for you’ve heard the news, of course?  Van Loo is a defaulter, and has run away with the poor child’s money.”

Mrs. Horncastle had heard the news at the hotel.  She paused a moment to collect herself, and then said slowly and tentatively, with a watchful intensity in her eyes, “Mrs. Barker went, I think, to the Divide”—­

But she was instantly interrupted by the eager Barker.  “I see.  I thought of that at once.  She went directly to the company’s offices to see if she could save anything from the wreck before she saw me.  It was like her, poor girl!  And you—­you,” he went on eagerly, his whole face beaming with gratitude,—­“you, out of your goodness, came here to tell me.”  He held out both hands and took hers in his.