He carried her back along the path, fresh-marked by her own footsteps, to the tent.
Next afternoon he called to learn how she was. He had a sheaf of wild mountain lilac-blooms in his hand.
"Oh, lovely! I haven't seen lilacs since England."
"They make me think of my mother," he said, giving the flowers into her hands.
"I would so much like to hear about your mother."
Skag had not the habit of much speaking, but he found it easy to tell this English girl about the mother who had died when he was a child. She leaned against banked pillows and watched the changes flow across his face. They were almost startling and yet so clean, so wholesome, that she felt inwardly refreshed, as by a breath from mountain heights.
Naturally he went on to tell her about Carlin; but when at last he spoke her name, the English girl interrupted him:
"Is it possible you are meaning Doctor Carlin Deal?"
"Yes; do you know her?" Skag asked.
"I have met her several times—quite frightened at first, because I had heard about her—you know she is very learned, even for one much older."