Far indeed from the madding crowd! Only Carley's stubbornness kept her from acknowledging the sense of peace that enveloped her--that and the consciousness of her own discontent.

What would it be like to come to this canyon--to give up to its enchantments?
That, like many another disturbing thought, had to go unanswered, to be driven into the closed chambers of Carley's mind, there to germinate subconsciously, and stalk forth some day to overwhelm her.
The trail led along the creek, threading a maze of bowlders, passing into the shade of cottonwoods, and crossing sun-flecked patches of sand.
Carley's every step seemed to become slower.

Regrets were assailing her.

Long indeed had she overstayed her visit to the West.

She must not linger there indefinitely.