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You know they came very near writing, "Gone west!" after my name, and considering that, this "Out West" signifies for me a very fortunate difference. A tremendous difference! For the present I'll let well enough alone. Adios. Write soon. Love from Carley's second reaction to the letter was a sudden upflashing desire to see her lover to go out West and find him.
At the solemn noontides the great white sun glared down hot so hot that t burned the skin, yet strangely was a pleasant burn. The waning afternoons were Carley's especial torment, when it seemed the sounds and winds of the day were tiring, and all things were seeking repose, and life must soften to an unthinking happiness.
He saw a good deal more of Ellen Carley's suitor in the course of his evening visits to the Grange, and had ample opportunity for observing Mr. Whitelaw's mode of courtship, which was by no means of the demonstrative order, consisting in a polite silence towards the object of his affections, broken only by one or two clumsy but florid compliments, delivered in a deliberate but semi-jocose manner.
"Some actor fellow once said w-when you w-went West you were c-camping out," chattered Carley. "Believe me, he said something." The fact was Carley had never camped out. Her set played golf, rode horseback, motored and house-boated, but they had never gone in for uncomfortable trips. The camps and hotels in the Adirondacks were as warm and luxurious as Carley's own home.
"Well, if they are the noble red people, my illusions are dispelled." She did not look out of the window again, not even when the brakeman called out the remarkable name of Albuquerque. Next day Carley's languid attention quickened to the name of Arizona, and to the frowning red walls of rock, and to the vast rolling stretches of cedar-dotted land. Nevertheless, it affronted her.
In fact, it's bolted to the sills." Both living room and sleeping room were arranged so that the Painted Desert could be seen from one window, and on the other side the whole of the San Francisco Mountains. Both rooms were to have open fireplaces. Carley's idea was for service and durability.
"Flo how is she?" burst out Carley. "Aw, Flo's loony over her husband," drawled Charley, his clear eyes on Carley's. "Husband!" she gasped. "Sure. Flo's gone an' went an' done what I swore on." "Who?" whispered Carley, and the query was a terrible blade piercing her heart. "Now who'd you reckon on?" asked Charley, with his slow grin. Carley's lips were mute.
Since our wretched separation I have fancied sometimes that a conviction of this kind on her part is at the root of the business, that she has alienated herself from me, believing in plain words that I was tired of her." "Such an idea as that would scarcely agree with Ellen Carley's account of Marian's state of mind during that last day or two at the Grange.
The farm belongs to some gentleman down in Midlandshire, a baronet; I can't call to mind his name at this moment, though I have heard it often enough. Mr. Carley's daughter Carley is the name of the bailiff at the Grange comes here for all they want." Gilbert gave a little start at the name of Midlandshire. Lidford was in Midlandshire.
Desert slope down and down color distance space! The wind that blew in her face seemed to have the openness of the whole world back of it. Cold, sweet, dry, exhilarating, it breathed of untainted vastness. Carley's memory pictures of the Adirondacks faded into pastorals; her vaunted images of European scenery changed to operetta settings.
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