Both Paul and Tom were objects of intense interest,—one because he killed Jack, the other because he didn’t. The miners, came in a body to see them, taking the most to Tom, who assimilated with them at once and spent half his time in the camp. Paul did not need him. He was perfectly well, and while enjoying the wild scenery and the life so different from that he had known was never long away from Elithe. On her pony which the miners had given her she rode with him through the woods and gorges and over the hills, until one day, when they had explored the cañon farther than usual and sat down to rest under the shadow of a huge boulder, while their horses browsed near them, Paul asked her to be his wife. He drew no comparison between his love for her and that he had felt for Clarice. He said: “I love you, Elithe. I think my interest in you began the first time I saw you on the boat. Of all that has happened since I cannot speak. I have buried it, and do not wish to open the grave lest the ghost of what I buried should haunt me again. I do not mean Clarice. I am willing to talk of her. I loved her, but she is only a memory of what might have been, and what I am very glad was not allowed to be. I want _you_. Will you take me?” There was no coquetry in Elithe’s nature, and when she lifted her face to Paul and he looked into her eyes he knew his answer and hurried back to town to present her to his parents as their future daughter. He wanted to take her with him when they left Samona, as they thought of doing soon, but this could not be. The mother, whom Miss Hansford had denounced as weak and shiftless, was weaklier than ever and Elithe would not leave her. “If you stay I shall stay, too,” Paul said. “I am in no hurry to go back where I suffered so much.” His wish was a law to his father and mother. There was nothing to call them East. The mountain air suited Mrs. Ralston, who was growing robust every day and to whom the scenery and the people were constant sources of enjoyment. An Englishman, who was going home for a year, offered his house, the newest and best in Samona, to Mr. Ralston, who took it at once. “If you all stay, I shall,” Miss Hansford said, and it was a very merry party the Ralstons and Hansfords made that summer, their only drawback Mrs. Hansford’s failing health. It was of no use for Miss Phebe to tell her to put on the mind cure and brace up. “I can’t brace up, and I haven’t much mind to put on,” she answered with a smile. “That’s so,” Miss Hansford thought. “The Potters never had any mind to spare.”