“It was a coincidence,” he said. “I was so run down last Spring that I just had to go somewhere. And I’d been out here before, not on this ranch, but in the same country, so I thought this would be the best place. Now I’m glad I did.” “And you have heard nothing?” asked Daisy, softly. “Nothing,” replied Kirk, disconsolately. “Daisy, we must face the facts: _there is nothing to hear!_ For if Olive were alive, she would surely have come back to me.” His voice broke, and he added another sentence almost to himself. “It was such a little quarrel.” “Yes, I know,” whispered Daisy, the tears running down her cheeks. Marjorie, who had always shared Daisy’s trouble as her very own, now seemed to enter more sympathetically than ever into the grief of these two people, whom she admired so much. Desperately, she searched her heart for some words of comfort to utter, but in vain. She could not express what she felt. “I wish you would tell me more about Olive,” said Kirk, gently. “You know that I had known her for such a short time--only a week at a summer resort--before we were married. And then it was only a little over a month later that--that--Olive wasn’t the sort of girl to harbor resentment, was she?” “No indeed!” exclaimed Daisy. “She always had a fiery temper, but she was over it in a minute when she got angry. And she’s very forgiving.” “I’m thankful to hear you say that, Daisy. Now I want to ask you a question--you must forgive me for putting it, but it worries me so--do you suppose that Olive could have committed suicide?” Daisy winced at the question--the idea was so horrible. How could her sister think of such a thing, with the prospect of such a happy life before her! Daisy glanced at Kirk; now that she understood him, he seemed to possess all the qualities that the normal girl would desire in a husband. And Olive was the sort of girl to appreciate this. No, the thing was inconceivable; whatever fate Olive had met, it could not have been a suicidal death; of this her sister was sure. “No, Kirk; she isn’t that kind of a girl. She wouldn’t really want to, either. I think you can be satisfied about that.” “Really?” cried the young man, hopefully. “Anything but that! For then I should feel that I had killed her, and that it was all my fault.” “No, if she is dead, it’s from some cause beyond either your or her power.” “Yes, I suppose so,” said Kirk, slowly. “You know she told me as she went out of the door she was ill. And to rush out to exposure, without proper protection--that would probably kill her.” “But if she were dead, we would be so likely to have heard about it,” objected Daisy, returning to her former hopeful attitude.