of hope and longing that she had experienced the day before. She opened
her eyes and finally, as the call continued, she crept languidly from her
bed and peered from behind the window-shade. Cartwell, in his khaki
suit, his handsome head bared to the hot sun, leaned against a peach-tree
while he watched Rhoda's window.

"I wonder what he wakened me for?" she thought half resentfully. "I
can't go to sleep again, so I may as well dress and have breakfast."

Hardly had she seated herself at her solitary meal when Cartwell appeared.

"Dear me!" he exclaimed. "The birds and Mr. DeWitt have been up this
long time."

"What is John doing?" asked Rhoda carelessly.

"He's gone up on the first mesa for the wildcats I spoke of last night.
I thought perhaps you might care to take a drive before it got too hot.
You didn't sleep well last night, did you?"

Rhoda answered whimsically.

"It's the silence. It thunders at me so! I will get used to it soon.
Perhaps I ought to drive. I suppose I ought to try everything."

Not at all discouraged, apparently, by this lack of enthusiasm, Cartwell
said:

"I won't let you overdo. I'll have the top-buggy for you and we'll go
slowly and carefully."