for some time she stood and gazed, marveling at the beauty and recalling some of the things her companion of the afternoon had said about his impressions of the place; then suddenly there loomed a dark speck in the near foreground of her meditation, and, looking down annoyed, she discovered the minister like a gnat between the eye and a grand spectacle, his face turned admiringly up to her window, his hand lifted in familiar greeting.

vexed at his familiarity, she turned quickly and jerked down the shade; then throwing herself on the bed, she had a good cry. her nerves were terribly wrought up. things seemed twisted in her mind, and she felt that she had reached the limit of her endurance. here was she, margaret earle, newly elected teacher to the ashland ridge school, lying on her bed in tears, when she ought to be getting settled and planning her new life; when the situation demanded her best attention she was wrought up over a foolish little personal dislike. why did she have to dislike a minister, anyway, and then take to a wild young fellow whose life thus far had been anything but satisfactory even to himself? was it her perverse nature that caused her to remember the look in the eyes of the boy who had rescued her from a night in the wilderness, and to feel there was far more manliness in his face than in the face of the man whose profession surely would lead one to suppose he was more worthy of her respect and interest? well, she was tired. perhaps things would assume their normal relation to one another in the morning. and so, after a few minutes, she bathed her face in the little, heavy, iron-stone wash-bowl, combed her hair, and freshened the collar and ruffles in her sleeves preparatory to going down for the evening meal. then, with a swift thought, she searched through her suit-case for every available article wherewith to brighten that forlorn room.

the dainty dressing-case of dresden silk with rosy ribbons that her girl friends at home had given as a parting gift covered a generous portion of the pine bureau, and when she had spread it out and bestowed its silver-mounted brushes, combs, hand-glass, and pretty sachet, things seemed to brighten up a bit. she hung up a cobweb of a lace boudoir cap with its rose-colored ribbons over the bleary mirror, threw her kimono of flowered challis over the back of the rocker, arranged her soap and toothbrush, her own wash-rag and a towel brought from home on the wash-stand, and somehow felt better and more as if she belonged. last she ranged her precious photographs of father and mother and the dear vine-covered church and manse across in front of the mirror. when her trunks came there would be other things, and she could bear it, perhaps, when she had this room buried deep in the home belongings. but this would have to do for to-night, for the trunk might not come till morning, and, anyhow, she was too weary to unpack.

she ventured one more look out of her window, peering carefully at first to make sure her fellow-boarder was not still standing down below on the grass. a pang of compunction shot through her conscience. what would her dear father think of her feeling this way toward a minister, and before she knew the first thing about him, too? it was dreadful! she must shake it off. of course he was a good man or he wouldn't be in the ministry, and she had doubtless mistaken mere friendliness for forwardness. she would forget it and try to go down and behave to him the way her father would want her to behave toward a fellow-minister.

cautiously she raised the shade again and looked out. the mountain was bathed in a wonderful ruby light fading into amethyst, and all the path between was many-colored like a pavement of jewels set in filigree. while she looked the picture changed, glowed, softened, and changed again, making her think of the chapter about the holy city in revelation.

she started at last when some one knocked hesitatingly on the door, for the wonderful sunset light had made her forget for the moment where she was, and it seemed a desecration to have mere mortals step in and announce supper, although the odor of pork and cabbage had been proclaiming it dumbly for some time.

she went to the door, and, opening it, found a dark figure standing in the hall. for a minute she half feared it was the minister, until a shy, reluctant backwardness in the whole stocky figure and the stirring of a large furry creature just behind him made her sure it was not.

"ma says you're to come to supper," said a gruff, untamed voice; and margaret perceived that the person in the gathering gloom of the hall was a boy.

"oh!" said margaret, with relief in her voice. "thank you for coming to tell me. i meant to come down and not give that trouble, but i got to looking at the wonderful sunset. have you been watching it?" she pointed across the room to the window. "look! isn't that a great color there on the tip of the mountain? i never saw anything like that at home. i suppose you're used to it, though."

the boy came a step nearer the door and looked blankly, half wonderingly, across at the window, as if he expected to see some phenomenon. "oh! that!" he exclaimed, carelessly. "sure! we have them all the time."

"but that wonderful silver light pouring down just in that one tiny spot!" exclaimed margaret. "it makes the mountain seem alive and smiling!"

the boy turned and looked at her curiously. "gee!" said he, "i c'n show you plenty like that!" but he turned and looked at it a long, lingering minute again.

"but we mustn't keep your mother waiting," said margaret, remembering and turning reluctantly toward the door. "is this your dog? isn't he a beauty? he made me feel really as if he were glad to see me." she stooped and laid her hand on the dog's head and smiled brightly up at his master.

the boy's face lit with a smile, and he turned a keen, appreciative look at the new teacher, for the first time genuinely interested in her. "cap's a good old scout," he admitted.

"so his name is cap. is that short for anything?"

"cap'n."

"captain. what a good name for him. he looks as if he were a captain, and he waves that tail grandly, almost as if it might be a badge of office. but who are you? you haven't told me your name yet. are you mrs. tanner's son?"

the boy nodded. "i'm just bud tanner."

"then you are one of my pupils, aren't you? we must shake hands on that." she put out her hand, but she was forced to go out after bud's reluctant red fist, take it by force in a strange grasp, and do all the shaking; for bud had never had that experience before in his life, and he emerged from it with a very red face and a feeling as if his right arm had been somehow lifted out of the same class with the rest of his body. it was rather awful, too, that it happened just in the open dining-room door, and that "preacher-boarder" watched the whole performance. bud put on an extra-deep frown and shuffled away from the teacher, making a great show of putting cap out of the dining-room, though he always sat behind his master's chair at meals, much to the discomfiture of the male boarder, who was slightly in awe of his dogship, not having been admitted into friendship as the lady had been.

mr. west stood back of his chair, awaiting the arrival of the new boarder, an expectant smile on his face, and rubbing his hands together with much the same effect as a wolf licking his lips in anticipation of a victim. in spite of her resolves to like the man, margaret was again struck with aversion as she saw him standing there, and was intensely relieved when she found that the seat assigned to her was on the opposite side of the table from him, and beside bud. west, however, did not seem to be pleased with the arrangement, and, stepping around the table, said to his landlady:

"did you mean me to sit over here?" and he placed a possessive hand on the back of the chair that was meant for bud.

"no, mister west, you jest set where you ben settin'," responded mrs. tanner. she had thought the matter all out and decided that the minister could converse with the teacher to the better advantage of the whole table if he sat across from her. mrs. tanner was a born match-maker. this she felt was an opportunity not to be despised, even if it sometime robbed the ridge school of a desirable teacher.

but west did not immediately return to his place at the other side of the table. to margaret's extreme annoyance he drew her chair and waited for her to sit down. the situation, however, was somewhat relieved of its intimacy by a sudden interference from cap, who darted away from his frowning master and stepped up authoritatively to the minister's side with a low growl, as if to say:

"hands off that chair! that doesn't belong to you!"

west suddenly released his hold on the chair without waiting to shove it up to the table, and precipitately retired to his own place. "that dog's a nuisance!" he said, testily, and was answered with a glare from bud's dark eyes.

bud came to his seat with his eyes still set savagely on the minister, and cap settled down protectingly behind margaret's chair.

mrs. tanner bustled in with the coffee-pot, and mr. tanner came last, having just finished his rather elaborate hair-comb at the kitchen glass with the kitchen comb, in full view of the assembled multitude. he was a little, thin, wiry, weather-beaten man, with skin like leather and sparse hair. some of his teeth were missing, leaving deep hollows in his cheeks, and his kindly protruding chin was covered with scraggy gray whiskers, which stuck out ahead of him like a cow-catcher. he was in his shirt-sleeves and collarless, but looked neat and clean, and he greeted the new guest heartily before he sat down, and nodded to the minister:

"naow, brother west, i reckon we're ready fer your part o' the performance. you'll please to say grace."

mr. west bowed his sleek, yellow head and muttered a formal blessing with an offhand manner, as if it were a mere ceremony. bud stared contemptuously at him the while, and cap uttered a low rumble as of a distant growl. margaret felt a sudden desire to laugh, and tried to control herself, wondering what her father would feel about it all.

the genial clatter of knives and forks broke the stiffness after the blessing. mrs. tanner bustled back and forth from the stove to the table, talking clamorously the while. mr. tanner joined in with his flat, nasal twang, responding, and the minister, with an air of utter contempt for them both, endeavored to set up a separate and altogether private conversation with margaret across the narrow table; but margaret innocently had begun a conversation with bud about the school, and had to be addressed by name each time before mr. west could get her attention. bud, with a boy's keenness, noticed her aversion, and put aside his own backwardness, entering into the contest with remarkably voluble replies. the minister, if he would be in the talk at all, was forced to join in with theirs, and found himself worsted and contradicted by the boy at every turn.

strange to say, however, this state of things only served to make the man more eager to talk with the lady. she was not anxious for his attention. ah! she was coy, and the acquaintance was to have the zest of being no lightly won friendship. all the better. he watched her as she talked, noted every charm of lash and lid and curving lip; stared so continually that she finally gave up looking his way at all, even when she was obliged to answer his questions.

thus, at last, the first meal in the new home was concluded, and margaret, pleading excessive weariness, went to her room. she felt as if she could not endure another half-hour of contact with her present world until she had had some rest. if the world had been just bud and the dog she could have stayed below stairs and found out a little more about the new life; but with that oily-mouthed minister continually butting in her soul was in a tumult.

when she had prepared for rest she put out her light and drew up the shade. there before her spread the wide wonder of the heavens again, with the soft purple of the mountain under stars; and she was carried back to the experience of the night before with a vivid memory of her companion. why, just why couldn't she be as interested in the minister down there as in the wild young man? well, she was too tired to-night to analyze it all, and she knelt beside her window in the starlight to pray. as she prayed her thoughts were on lance gardley once more, and she felt her heart go out in longing for him, that he might find a way to "make good," whatever his trouble had been.

as she rose to retire she heard a step below, and, looking down, saw the minister stalking back and forth in the yard, his hands clasped behind, his head thrown back raptly. he could not see her in her dark room, but she pulled the shade down softly and fled to her hard little bed. was that man going to obsess her vision everywhere, and must she try to like him just because he was a minister?

so at last she fell asleep.