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The Trail of the Golden Horn

poor girl might have her lover restored to her again. There was nothing conventional about this girl. She was one with the things of nature, and the untamed spirit of roving natives animated her soul. What she did, she did with tremendous intensity, and her love was as a burning fire that cannot be quenched. Her every movement was full of grace, and there was a remarkable refinement about her entire manner. Never once did Marion hear her utter a wrong word, nor express an improper wish. Her heart seemed pure, and her love a most sacred thing. This was shown as the two sat that night near the stove.

“Is it wrong, Miss, to love as I love?” she suddenly asked.

“Why no, dear. I am certain it is right. Why do you ask such a question as that?”

“Oh, I hardly know,” and the girl sighed as she spoke, and placed her right hand wearily to her forehead. “But sometimes I think that my love is so wonderful a thing that it isn’t meant for such a bad girl as I am. Perhaps God thinks that it isn’t right for me to love Tim as I do.”

“That is all nonsense, Zell,” Marion chided. “God knows your heart, and what a good girl you really are. You must not think that you are bad, for you are not. I know you ran away from school, but that doesn’t mean that you are bad. Let us call it a mistake.”

“And you don’t think God will punish me by taking Tim away when I want him so much?”

“No dear, God will not do that to punish you, I feel certain. If Tim should die, which we hope and pray he will not, it will not be God’s doings, but because a bad man shot him. We must not blame God for what others do. He wants us to live and be happy.”