Now that he was looking back upon three hours more of Lee's society, Cavanagh was ready to admit that he had left his range and ridden hard and far with that one purpose in mind. He had been hungry for the sight of her, and now that he had touched her hand and looked upon her again he was a little surprised and deeply disturbed to find himself hungrier than before. VI THE VOICE FROM THE HEIGHTS LEE VIRGINIA was not entirely without experience as regards respectful courtship. Her life in the East had brought her to know a number of attractive lads and a few men, but none of these had become more than good companions, or friends; and though she wrote to one or two of these youths letters of the utmost friendliness, there was no passion in them, and she felt, as yet, the sting of nothing more intense in her liking for Cavanagh; but he meant more to her, now that she was lonely and beleaguered of those whose eyes were cruel and hot. Then, too, he had come to represent a new world to her--this world of the forest, this region toward the sunset, which was quite as mysterious to her thinking as it was to the eyes of any plains-dweller. Her imagination went with the ranger on his solitary march into those vague, up-billowing masses of rocks and trees. To her there were many dangers, and she wondered at his courage, his hardihood. That he had ridden all that long, rough way merely to see her she was not vain enough to believe; but she had, nevertheless, something of every woman's secret belief in her individual charm. Cavanagh had shown a flattering interest in her, and his wish to be her protector filled her with joy and confidence. She heard a good deal more about this particular forest ranger next morning at breakfast. "He is throwing himself away," Mrs. Redfield passionately declared. "Think of a man of Ross's refinement living in a mountain shack miles from anybody, watching poachers, marking trees, and cooking his own food. It's a shameful waste of genius." "That's as you look at it, my dear," responded Redfield. "Ross is the guardian of an immense treasure-chest which belongs to the nation. Furthermore, he is quite certain--as I am--that this Forest Service is the policy of the future, and that it offers fine chances for promotion--and then, finally, he likes it." "That is all well enough for a young man; but Ross is at least thirty-five, and should be thinking of settling down. I can't understand his point of view." "My dear, you have never seen the procession of the seasons from such a point of view as that which he enjoys." "No, and I do not care to. It is quite lonely enough for me right here." Redfield looked at Lee with comic blankness. "Mrs. Redfield is hopelessly urban. As the wife of a forest supervisor, she cares more for pavements and tram-cars than for the most splendid mountain park." "I most certainly do," his wife vigorously agreed. "And if I had my way we should be living in London."