"Here we are, sweetheart," said Glenn. "Now we shall see what you are made
of."
Carley was non-committal as to that. Her intense interest precluded any
humor at this moment. Not until she actually saw the log cabin Glenn had
erected with his own hands had she been conscious of any great interest.
But sight of it awoke something unaccustomed in Carley. As she stepped into
the cabin her heart was not acting normally for a young woman who had no
illusions about love in a cottage.
Glenn's cabin contained one room about fifteen feet wide by twenty long.
Between the peeled logs were lines of red mud, hard dried. There was a
small window opposite the door. In one corner was a couch of poles, with
green tips of pine boughs peeping from under the blankets. The floor
consisted of flat rocks laid irregularly, with many spaces of earth showing
between. The open fireplace appeared too large for the room, but the very
bigness of it, as well as the blazing sticks and glowing embers, appealed
strongly to Carley. A rough-hewn log formed the mantel, and on it Carley's
picture held the place of honor. Above this a rifle lay across deer
antlers. Carley paused here in her survey long enough to kiss Glenn and
point to her photograph.
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