The culmination was reached long before the appointed day of their wedding. It came at the moment he definitely asked her to become his wife. It had been a moment to her than which she had dreamed of nothing more sublime. The flood-gates had been literally forced open before a tide of sudden passion, which left her gasping, and something incredulous. Where was all the result of her years of hard calculation? Where was that machine upon which she had gazed with so much confident pride? It had only served her just so long as was required to realize that Jeffrey Masters was sufficiently desirable to fulfil the purposes of the life she had marked out for herself. Then, the primitive woman in her had abandoned herself to the glowing fires burning deep within her young heart.
Thus the bond held them both through delicious days, which so little time before had seemed impossible to either. Thus the time drew on toward the golden day of consummation. And with each passing day firmer and firmer, more and more irresistible, grew the ties under which they were held.
As the local press had foreshadowed, the event of their marriage proved of primary social importance. All Calthorpe speeded them upon their life's journey, and the east-bound mail bore them away with the echo of cheery farewells, and every other form of speeding, dying pleasantly away behind them. So, too, the snake-like string of coaches bore the burden of Destiny in the great uninteresting, padlocked baskets and bags which contained the mail.
The days of the honeymoon had been carefully thought out by Elvine. Her wishes had been supreme. Toronto was their first destination. A city whose bright, pleasant life appealed to her more, perhaps, even than any of the great cities of the greater world.
Perfect happiness was theirs from the moment of their departure eastward. No cloud drifted in sight during their first day in the great hotel from which they intended to view the life of Toronto. Then came the second morning, and the—mail.
They occupied a suite of rooms upon the first floor of the hotel. It overlooked the wide portico which supported a deep balcony devoted to their sole use. Jeff was alone in the luxurious sitting-room when the mail was brought in by a waiter. He was glancing down the morning paper while he waited for Elvine, who was preparing for a morning round of the stores.
His attention for the news he read was less than scant. It is doubtful if he read more than the head-lines, and these only with partial understanding. His mind was upon the beautiful woman in the adjacent apartment arraying herself with all the arts of a woman in love for the benefit of the man whose regard is alone worth while.
His eyes were smiling unconsciously; something of the keenness of his whole expression had become lost under their new expression. Dressed in the simple garb of civilization he had little about him, beyond the intense sunburn of his face, to remind one of the urgent young ranchman who had first planned the combination which was to develop into the famous Obar Ranch.
At the arrival of the mail he flung his paper aside. Then he picked up each letter in turn, examined the address, and set aside, in a separate pile, those addressed to his wife. Of his own there were only four, and, of these, only the one addressed in Bud's cumbersome handwriting interested him seriously.
Before opening it he pierced and lit a cigar. He felt that from its bulk the letter must contain important reports from the ranch, and, coming at such a time, would need the steadying influence of a cigar to enable him to give them the consideration necessary.