"No cry, Carla!" he said. "No cry, Carla!" patting her cheek.
Then, putting his tear-stained cheek close to hers, he said:
"Jesus love Carla."
She gathered the little comforter in her arms; and though her tears fell fast, they brought relief to her heart.
At last she persuaded him to return to school the following day, and to do all he could to atone for leaving it without permission.
On their return, they sought the teacher in the schoolhouse, but she was gone, and the door was locked; neither was she to be found at the Clayton ranch. The little penitent lingered a long time, but his Beloved did not come. At last he walked reluctantly in to camp.
Away up the mountain road, Esther Bright and Kenneth Hastings drew rein. The Englishman sat his horse well; but it was evident his companion was not a horsewoman. She might shine in a drawing-room or in a home, but not on a horse's back. If she had not been riding one of the finest saddle horses in the country, she would have appeared to greater disadvantage.
The canter up the mountain road had brought the color to her cheeks. It had also shaken out her hairpins; and now her wavy brown hair, with its glint of gold, tumbled about her shoulders.
"You look like a gypsy," Kenneth was saying.
She laughed.