Once more Edward was carried to an unknown country, but this time he felt easy. He was strong with the feeling of having sacrificed much for the sake of his duty, and already there seemed to be much more room in his heart for Marie Louise, of whom he could not think without blushing. After a day and a half of fast traveling he arrived at Grass Village where he was met by Mr. Goodnow, to whom he had written. This gentleman was a real western type, and Edward was pleased with the cordial manner in which he was received. After being taken to the house, Edward gave Mr. Goodnow his letter of recommendation from his old friend, and went upstairs to a room to wash himself. When he came down, he met the whole family, and felt at home from the first. While Edward was getting acquainted with his new duties, his letter to Nellie had reached her, and as she read it, she felt hot tears come to her eyes, and for an instant her heart felt as if pierced by an arrow. She had never realized until then how much she really loved that young man. As she eat holding his letter in her hands, she saw her dream of anticipated happiness crumbled to pieces, and such a despair as had never before entered her soul came to her. "My God! My God!" she said, and then closed her eyes. The heart of a woman is a strange thing, and Nellie's heart was one of the strangest. Having never before known what love was, she had all at once felt her whole being infected by a mighty passion, a passion such as no human being can feel twice, and now the object of her love had vanished. He was gone without even saying where. Her sorrow was almost as great as her love, and from this time Nellie King was a different woman. She broke her engagement in New York and came back to Chicago, where she tried in vain to learn where Edward had gone. The Russian had promised Edward not to reveal where he was, and he was true to his promise, hard as it was to refuse Nellie, to whom he owed his situation. For twelve months Edward had lived on Mr. Goodnow's ranch, and his reputation as the best and most fearless rider on the ranch, as well as the most graceful, was a recognized fact, and that was enough to make him popular. His little mare, a perfect type of that class of horses, called "bronchos;" was the prettiest and swiftest on the ranch, and he had named her "Nellie," and indeed, any woman would have been proud to give her name to such a beauty. There were twelve cowboys on Goodnow's ranch, and every week, one of them had a day off, which was spent at his own discretion. Cowboys as a class are a queer lot of men. They are fearless and brave to excess, and being isolated from society so much, they are often eccentric; but their eccentricity has its charms.