"What's this?" he rebelled. "At least tell me whether I'm supposed to gather an armful of clouds or wait until dark and bring down some stars." "Go straight up until I tell you to stop," she laughed. "And be sure you don't fall." "Would you care very much, Wanda?" he asked loverlike and foolishly. "I should," she informed him, her eyes twinkling. "For I shall be climbing right under you." "Oh, I know, then. We're going to heaven." And up he went. Laughing, calling back and forward like two children, their hearts gay and surcharged with something sweeter than mere gaiety, they made their way steadily, he always above, she just below him and carrying the parcel done up in a newspaper. "You might at least let me carry our baggage upon our journey," he offered more than once. But she insisted that this too was a part of the secret. At last he came to the limb that lay out across the ledge of rock and would have kept on climbing, he was so busy looking down at the rosy face that was looking up at him. But she commanded him to use his eyes for something else than just to make love with, and he understood. "You mean to say you've been up here before? That you've gone out across that sort of a bridge?" he exclaimed in amazement. "Aren't you afraid of anything in the world, Wanda?" "Yes," she answered. "Yes, to both questions. I'm inclined to be afraid of spiders; I think that I'd be afraid of an alligator. And now the secret!" "A cave," he cried. "Way up here! How in the world did you happen to find it?" When he had crossed first and given his hand to her she came swiftly to his side, thanked him with a nod and set him to work. "This is my own private estate," she told him. "No one enters my portals until he has been invited. You are not invited yet. In that seam in the rock you will find plenty of wood and dry cones. If you'll put them at the doorway I'll let you know when you can come in. And, Wayne--" "Yes?" "No one knows of this place except we two. Keep behind the cedar, won't you, so that if any one should be about you won't be seen?" Wayne gathered great armfuls of wood, piled cones conveniently, and in the meantime got no single glimpse of the interior of the cavern. For Wanda had slipped within, had drawn over the wide opening the screen of branches her own hands had made against the occasion, and was completely hidden by that and the curtain which reinforced it against a ray of light. He could hear her singing softly, happily as she went back and forth. At last her voice came to him, calling merrily. "You may come in, Mr. Shandon. Don't bring the wood with you yet; just come to look and admire." He thrust aside the screen, stepped through and his short exclamation amply repaid her for the many hours of preparation.