"Oh, Tony, what a downfall of our castle in the air!" were Mary's first words, as she held out her hands to Severance. "This beautiful Bell Towers, where we hoped we should be so happy—you and Marise and I—wasted—wasted! Our dream broken! The best prospect for my poor child now is, that she can go back to the stage and begin again where she left off."

Severance had come to her for comfort, but found he had to give instead of get it.

"Oh, I say! Things aren't as bad as all that!" he protested. "Tell me exactly how matters are, so far as you know, with Marise. Then I'll tell you how they are with me. You must remember, I'm not without resources—or ideas."

They were standing together on a rose-hung loggia, looking over a fountain terrace where oranges shone in the sun and a hundred flowers poured forth perfume like a hymn of praise. As Mary Sorel had said, the place was a perfect setting for romance. But all hope wasn't over yet!

Tea was brought to the loggia; and when the maid had gone, Mary began to tell Severance—not only the news he wanted to hear, but, alas! much news that made sorry hearing indeed.

"CÉline writes me, as often as Marise does," Mrs. Sorel explained, a little shamefacedly. "I arranged that she should do so. Marise is odd in some ways, you know. Not secretive exactly. No. But she has sudden, unexpected sort of reserves. And I wanted an unbiased account of affairs, from—well, from more than one point of view. They've left Albuquerque, near where the adopted mother lives, and gone to the place I wrote you about—the Grand Canyon. At least, Garth's property isn't far from the Canyon. You can see it from the windows. 'Vision House,' he calls the place; but I think it's more because getting the land was the fulfilment of some old dream than because of the view. Marise says that's wonderful, though—the view, I mean."

"You can't expect me to care about the view from Garth's damned house, where he keeps Marise a prisoner!" exploded Severance.

"No, dear boy—forgive me! I was wandering from the point, thinking of her letters. They wander, too. She tells me all kinds of things about the place. She says it's amazing. She talks more of everything else than herself."

"What does she say about Garth?"

"Not more than she can help. But—oh, one thing! Tony, she tells me he's rich—very rich."

"Rot! He wants her to believe that."

"No. Someone else told her, not he. And the house, though it's simple, is the house of a rich man, she says. I should have been there by this time, if you hadn't wired me you were coming here to get my advice before—before deciding what to do next. And—besides, I was a little delayed by the visit of a charming Comtesse de Sorel who came to Los Angeles, and thought she might be distantly related to poor dear Louis. We fagged up the family tree together. It appears that Louis just missed being a comte himself, by descent, because of—ah—a family accident: a marriage that didn't take place. Think of the difference to us if——"

"I'm thinking of the difference to me because of a marriage that did take place!" Severance cut her short. "I shall start for the Grand Canyon at once. I suppose there's an hotel there."

"Marise says there's a dream of an hotel, close to the abyss, or whatever you call it. The name is El Tovar, after some old Spanish general who seems to have been even more of a brute than Garth. You'll go there—naturally. Yet I thought from what you said that all was over—that you couldn't pay Garth, and——"

"I'll do something! You don't suppose I'm going to stand quietly by and leave him in possession, do you?"

"Well, he's not exactly in possession. To put it like that is to exaggerate——"

"He's got the legal power of a husband over Marise, and, one way or another, he'll have to be kicked out!"

"That, at least, will be something to the good—if you succeed, dear boy. But this terrible disappointment over the money.... What do you think of doing?"

Severance put into words what he thought of doing. Mums listened earnestly, weighing each pro and con as he talked. For a wonder, she didn't interrupt. It was only when he had finished and awaited an opinion that she spoke.

"Very good! Very good indeed!" she praised him. "It seems to me that you've analysed the man's character, and formed your plan on the analysis. Marise—ah, well, she's more complicated than he is, of course! But I think this idea of yours will appeal to her romantic side. Like all girls, she is romantic."

"Everything depends upon how she feels towards me," said Severance. "She did care a little—once. You don't think that what I—what's happened has changed her?"

"I don't see why it should have done," answered Mary. "After all, she consented."

"I'm afraid your influence was for something in that!"

"Naturally a mother has influence. But Marise's mind is her own. She's very individual. Besides, the time is so short since then."

Yes, Mums was right there! The time was short—very short. Only a few weeks had passed since the day when Marise had been persuaded to accept the first Great Plan, though it felt more like several years. She couldn't have changed—unless association with a man like Garth had made her value Severance more than ever.

The one amendment Mary had to make was that she should travel with Tony, and be on the spot to help in the carrying out of this new, second plan. But her suggestion was received with an ill grace. "I want to do it all on my own," he objected. "If Marise is romantic, as you say she is, it would spoil the whole show to have her mother in the background. No, what's got to be done I want to do myself. You must wait here. I'll bring her to you when I can, if things turn out the way I expect. Anyhow, you trust her to me, don't you?"

"Of course, dear Tony," Mums assured him. Her voice didn't sound quite sincere, but then, it seldom did, unless she was in a temper. And after all, Severance didn't care a hang whether she trusted him or not, so long as she did not interfere. The mother of Marise bored him with her pretensions and affectations, though she was useful at times; and in the future—that future which he hoped to share with Marise—he didn't intend to see a great deal of Mrs. Sorel.

Bell Towers was as beautiful as it had been described, and it was his own for the next few months. But weary as he was, Severance left the place that night, taking a stateroom in the train for Williams—"Williams" being the prosaically-named junction for perhaps the most romantic place in the world, the Grand Canyon.

Getting out at the small station Severance saw no Canyon at first. It couldn't be so huge or wonderful as people said, he thought, and anyhow, he didn't care for scenery—especially now. There was a pine wood, and ascending out of it for a short distance he came to the hotel—a glorified loghouse, it was—such a loghouse as the Geni of the Lamp might have created for Aladdin by request. It was very big and very beautiful. Even Severance, tired and out of temper, couldn't help admitting its charm. Then, on the plateau of the hotel, above the wood, he found himself gazing straight down into the canyon, and far across a gulf of gold and rose.

The man was amazed, almost stunned, for a moment. Constitutionally he dreaded great heights and depths, and though the place was stupendously magnificent, the moment his eyes saw its majesty Severance longed to escape from it. With relief, he turned his back upon the flaming rocks and sapphire depths, and almost ran into the hotel.

There was a vast, low-ceilinged hall, with just the right sort of furniture, and an odd invention—a cross between hammocks and hanging sofas—suspended here and there by chains from the roof. In these things girls sat; and there were several extremely handsome young men lounging about, dressed like cowboys. Severance caught snatches of conversation about ponies, and the "long trail" and the "short trail." Everyone had either just made the descent into the canyon, or intended to make it; but Severance had no wish for the adventure which brought most people to this abode of wonders.

The hotel, it appeared, was nearly full, but there were two or three rooms free for that night, and Tony engaged one. He then inquired the way and the distance to "Vision House."

"Oh, Major Garth's!" exclaimed the hotel clerk. "It's about a mile or a mile and a half from here. It's on the edge of the pine forest—has just a group of big trees between it and the canyon—not enough to hide the view, though. Some think the trees improve it—make a sort of frame. You can walk, easily. But I saw Major Garth in the hotel half an hour ago, with a friend who's convalescing here after being ill. I'm sure he's not gone yet. I can send and see if he——"

"Please don't do that!" Severance broke in. "I am—a relative of Mrs. Garth, and I have a message to deliver from her mother. There's no need to disturb Major Garth if he's with a friend."

Severance had intended to bathe, change into fresh clothes, and have a long, cool drink—the drink of his life—before starting out to call at Vision House. He could thus have been at his best, and have felt sure of doing himself justice in any ordeal he might be destined to go through. But with the certain knowledge that Garth was out of the way—perhaps only for a short time—it would have been tempting Providence to delay for one unnecessary second.

He inquired just how to go, and vetoed the suggestion that he should first look at his room.

"If you'll register, I'll ring for a chap to show you where you start from," said the clerk, pushing a big book forward and handing the guest a pen.

"Earl of Severance," Tony wrote, expecting to see the man look impressed, but no such emotion was visible. Instead, he turned back a few pages to show the signature of an Indian rajah and a Scottish duke. A mere earl looked small fry compared with them!

On the same page with the duke, Severance happened to catch sight of a name which was vaguely familiar to him, and he kept the book open to refresh his memory.

"Miss ZÉlie Marks," he repeated to himself. "Now where have I heard...."

Then, suddenly, he knew.

ZÉlie Marks's face rose before his mind, and he recalled where he had seen it last—recalled also a look he had caught in a pair of handsome eyes fixed upon Garth the day of the first visit.

Mrs. Sorel had tried to send the two off together, and Severance had said to himself, "That couple know each other pretty well. The girl's in love with the fellow!"

So she was out West, at this hotel, close to Garth's house! Why? What did it mean? It must mean something.... Did Marise know?... Had Miss Marks been brought here purposely to give the wished-for—the arranged-for—excuse for a divorce? Or was the reason for her presence more subtle and more complicated?

Severance felt excited, as if he had picked up something of unexpected value.