It was to one of these that Stanford Manning
brought his bride for their honeymoon. Stanford himself pitched their
tent and made their simple camp, for it was not in his plan that the
sweet intimacy of these, the first weeks of their mated life, should be
marred, even by servants. And Helen, wise in her love, permitted him to
realize his dream in the fullness of its every detail.
As she lay in the hammock which he had hung for her under the canopy of
living green, and watched him while he brought wood for their camp fire,
and made all ready for the night which was drawing near, she was glad
that he had planned it so. But more than that, she was glad that he was
the kind of a man who would care to plan it so. Then, when all was
finished, he came to sit beside her, and together they watched the light
of the setting sun fade from the summit of Old Granite, and saw the
flaming cloud-banner that hung above the mountain's castle towers furled
by the hand of night. In silence they watched those mighty towering
battlements grow cold and grim, until against the sky the shadowy bulk
stood mysterious and awful, as though to evidence in its grandeur and
strength the omnipotent might and power of the Master Builder of the
world and Giver of all life.
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