Neither of them spoke more than a conventional word or two until Hillyer, after full speed down Haig's road to the junction, slowed up on the main highway along the Brightwater. It was the serenest of summer evenings, very still and fragrant, with a touch of autumn in the air. The eastern sky was filled with pale golds and pinks, and the foothills were warm with purples. Marion's face was averted from Hillyer, and her eyes were fixed, not on the soft alternations of color in the sky, but on Thunder Mountain, where the only clouds to be seen in all the expanse of blue lay low upon its uncompromising head. "Marion!" said Hillyer, at length. She did not miss the note in his voice that exposed his intention, but long preparation for this moment enabled her to face him calmly. "Yes, I know, Robert," she said. "You have much to say to me." "I'm going to-morrow," he began abruptly. "Will you go with me?" "To-morrow? Go with you?" she repeated, with a little start of surprise. "Yes. Will you go with me?" "But I don't understand, Robert." "I must be in Denver the day after to-morrow." "I--I didn't know your time was so short. I'm afraid--I've spoiled your visit." "That doesn't matter, Marion, if you'll go back with me." "But I can't--just yet." "Why not?" "I'm not ready. I haven't half finished my visit with Claire." She was, after all, somewhat confused, for she had not expected him to approach the subject in just this way. "But the summer is almost gone. It's near the end of August," persisted Hillyer. "There's another month of good weather. And September, Claire says, is the most beautiful of all." "That may be, unless Huntington's right. He told me only yesterday that it's going to be an early winter. There's come a chill in the air even since I've been here." "Nonsense!" she replied, recovering her composure. "I'll go out with the last stage." "And get caught in an avalanche or something!" "I suppose Seth does want to get rid of me!" she said, with a faint laugh. "That's not it at all." "Well, I'm not afraid." "But suppose you stay too late, and get caught. You'd have to remain here all winter. The Park, Huntington says, is as tight as a jail after the snows come." "Claire stays here through the winter sometimes." He felt a fresh alarm, and showed it. It would be just like her! he thought. "See here, Marion!" he said, plunging at last. "I've obeyed your order not to say anything about--the future. I meant not to say anything until the time was up. But you must see I can't keep silent now, after--what's happened. You must know I can't go away and leave you without knowing what--it all means. You said you'd tell me as soon as you'd finished nursing--him. No, wait, please! Let me say it at once. You know I love you. I want you to marry me. I need you, Marion. There's never been an hour, a minute that I haven't thought of you. I can't work--I can't do anything without you. I love you more than--"