"That's what I was hoping. So you'd like to go--really?"

"Yes, indeed. It'll be hot, that's all. But I won't mind that. Anything to
get away for awhile."

Two days later they had started. The land was green with early summer, in
that rich fullness which makes the heart almost sick with ecstasy. The
farther west they went, the wilder the country grew; and when they finally
dipped down into Arizona, Lucia looked from the train window, her face
alight with joy. Such scenic variety she had never dreamed of. One moment
they were looking at the wonderful mesas and superb canyons; the next they
seemed to pass through dry gullies and great shallow basins. Then there
would come long, weary levels of sand that gleamed in the sun; and far away
she would behold tremendous buttes. The valleys they passed through were
verdant and lovely. Cattle grazed here in a calm peace. It was as if the
rest of the world were shut out, and in this quiet land a special blessing
had come down. The peace of it, the stillness of it crowded in upon her.
She had been to California, but always she had traveled by a northern
route, and had missed the wonder of this part of the world. Before their
journey was over, she had begged Morgan to take her to the Grand Canyon;
and for two days they remained there, drinking in the glory of perhaps the
most beautiful spot on the western continent. She could not get enough of
it--those colors that sank into her heart and consciousness and made her
think she was in paradise. To see the sun rise here--she almost wept that
morning when the lord of heaven came over the mountains that towered like
huge sentinels, impervious to wind and gale and rain.

"I can't stand such beauty, Morgan," she said at last. "It takes something
out of me. We'll have to go on."