a part of the way to the Longhorn bosque with Ben and herself the day following the receipt of Nan's telegram.
Since Edith was determined to go, Ben could do little else than accompany her on the long ride.
This ride meant as much to Edith as to Nan, for the bosque girl had found her opportunity to slip the ashes of the heart of the wild dove in the pocket of Ben's chaps, and if there was any virtue in her mother's love-charm surely she must know it before the ride was done. Nan had promised to give Ben her final answer to the one great question which he had asked her again in embarrassed eagerness.
It was not a particularly gay party that made ready to start in front of the hotel the next morning, though Bob did his best and Nan made an effort to be her vivacious self. But the clouds sagged heavy and blue over the mountains, the air was curiously still and oppressive, and altogether the occasion for any of them was not conducive to high spirits.
"You're liable to get wet around the edges," Fritz Poth said in friendly warning,
