"As it is," answers the young man, "I hope to see you in the West."
"Ah, you expect to be there?"
"Yes; my headquarters must be in Salt Lake for the next month or two."
"Why, we shall be there also," cries Erma. "You shall show me over your city."
"Excuse me, I am not a Mormon!" answers Lawrence grimly, biting the end of his moustache.
"Oh, of course not! I—I beg your pardon. Yes; I remember now—that awful sect live there—" stammers Miss Travenion. "You'll forgive my ignorance, won't you?" Her eyes have a playful pleading in them that makes her judge very mild.
"On one condition!" he answers eagerly: "that you surely come to Salt Lake."
"Certainly," answers Miss Penitent; "it is there or in Ogden or somewhere about the Rocky Mountains I hope to meet my father."
"I also hope to meet your father some day," replies Harry, in a tone that astonishes the girl, for her beautiful eyes have made him forget he has only met her ten minutes.
She raises these to his inquiringly, and what she sees makes her cheeks grow red. A cordial grip upon her fingers is emphasizing this rapid gentleman's speech.