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Mr。 Woods's station wagon was in waiting； but Paul； handing the
driver his valise； and ascertaining the general direction of the house； and
that it was not far distant； told him to go on and he would follow afoot。
The tremor of vague anticipation had already come upon him； something
that he knew not whether he feared or longed for； only that it was
inevitable； had begun to possess him。 He would soon recover himself in
the flaring glory of this woodland； and the invigoration of this hale
October air。
It was a beautiful and brilliant sunset； yet not so beautiful and brilliant
but that the whole opulent forest around him seemed to challenge and
repeat its richest as well as its most delicate dyes。 The reddening west；
seen through an opening of scarlet maples； was no longer red； the golden
glory of the sun； sinking over a promontory of gleaming yellow sumach
that jutted out into the noble river； was shorn of its intense radiance； at
times in the thickest woods he seemed surrounded by a yellow nimbus； at
times so luminous was the glow of these translucent leaves that the
position of the sun itself seemed changed； or the shadows cast in defiance
of its glory。 As he walked on； long reaches of the lordly placid stream at
his side were visible； as far as the terraces of the opposite shore； lifted on
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basaltic columns； themselves streaked and veined with gold and fire。 Paul
had seen nothing like this since his boyhood； for an instant the great
heroics of the Sierran landscape were forgotten in this magnificent
harlequinade。
A dim footpath crossed the road in the direction of the house； which
for the last few moments had been slowly etching itself as a soft vignette
in a tinted aureole of walnut and maple upon the steel blue of the river。 He
was hesitating whether to take this short cut or continue on by the road；
when he heard the rustling of quick footsteps among the fallen leaves of
the variegated thicket through which it stole。 He stopped short； the leafy
screen shivered and parted； and a tall graceful figure； like a draped and
hidden Columbine； burst through its painted foliage。 It was Yerba！
She ran quickly towards him； with parted lips； shining eyes； and a few
scarlet leaves clinging to the stuff of her worsted dress in a way that
recalled the pink petals of Rosario。
〃When I saw you were not in the wagon and knew you were walking I
slipped out to intercept you； as I had something to tell you before you saw
the others。 I thought you wouldn't mind。〃 She stopped； and suddenly
hesitated。
What was this new strange shyness that seemed to droop her eyelids；
her proud head； and even the slim hand that had been so impulsively and
frankly outstretched towards him？ And hePaulwhat was he doing？
Where was this passionate outburst that had filled his heart for nights and
days？ Where this eager tumultuous questioning that his feverish lips had
rehearsed hour by hour？ Where this desperate courage that would sweep
the whole world away if it stood between them？ Where； indeed？ He was
standing only a few feet from hercold； silent； and tremulous！
She drew back a step； lifted her head with a quick toss that seemed to
condense the moisture in her shining eyes； and sent what might have been
a glittering dew…drop flying into the loosed tendrils of her hair。 Calm and
erect again； she put her little hand to her jacket pocket。
〃I only wanted you to read a letter I got yesterday；〃 she said； taking out
an envelope。
The spell was broken。 Paul caught eagerly at the hand that held the
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letter； and would have drawn her to him； but she put him aside gravely but
sweetly。
〃Read that letter！〃
〃Tell me of YOURSELF first！〃 he broke out passionately。 〃Why you
fled from me； and why I now find you here； by the merest chance； without
a word of summons from yourself； Yerba？ Tell me who is with you？ Are
you free and your own mistressfree to act for yourself and me？ Speak；
darlingdon't be cruel！ Since that night I have longed for you； sought for
you； and suffered for you every day and hour。 Tell me if I find you the
same Yerba who wrote〃
〃Read that letter！〃
〃I care for none but the one you left me。 I have read and reread it；
Yerbacarried it always with me。 See！ I have it here！〃 He was in the act of
withdrawing it from his breast…pocket； when she put up her hand piteously。
〃Please； Paul； pleaseread this letter first！〃
There was something in her new supplicating grace； still retaining the
faintest suggestion of her old girlish archness； that struck him。 He took the
letter and opened it。 It was from Colonel Pendleton。
Plainly； concisely； and formally； without giving the name of his
authority or suggesting his interview with Mrs。 Argalls； he had informed
Yerba that he had documentary testimony that she was the daughter of the
late Jose de Arguello； and legally entitled to bear his name。 A copy of the
instructions given to his wife； recognizing Yerba Buena； the ward of the
San Francisco Trust； as his child and hers； and leaving to the mother the
choice of making it known to her and others； was inclosed。
Paul turned an unchanged face upon Yerba； who was watching him
eagerly； uneasily； almost breathlessly。
〃And you think this concerns ME！〃 he said bitterly。 〃You think only of
this； when I speak of the precious letter that bade me hope； and brought
me to you？〃
〃Paul；〃 said the girl； with wondering eyes and hesitating lips； 〃do you
mean to say thatthatthis isnothing to you？〃
〃Yesbut forgive me； darling！〃 he broke out again； with a sudden
vague remorsefulness； as he once more sought her elusive hand。 〃I am a
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brutean egotist！ I forgot that it might be something to YOU。〃
〃Paul；〃 continued the girl； her voice quivering with a strange joy； 〃do
you say that youYOU yourself； care nothing for this？〃
〃Nothing；〃 he answered； gazing at her transfigured face with admiring
wonder。
〃And〃more timidly； as a faint aurora kindled in her checks〃that you
don't carethatthatI am com