Part 10 (1/2)

”And so you married the other young man, my dear?” Mrs. Watson was remarking to Elsie. ”I remember he used to come in very often to call on your sister, and it was easy enough to see,--people in boarding-houses will notice such things of course, and we all used to think-- But there--of course she knew all the time, and it is easy to make mistakes, and I dare say it's all for the best as it is. You look very young indeed to be married. I wonder that your father could make up his mind to let you.”

”I am not young at all, I'm nearly twenty-six,” replied Elsie, who always resented remarks about her youth. ”There are three younger than I am in the family, and they are all grown up.”

”Oh, my dear, but you don't look it! You don't seem a day over twenty.

Ellen was nearly as old as you are before she ever met Henry, and they were engaged nearly two-- But she never did look as young as most of the girls she used to go with, and I suppose that's the reason that now they are all got on a little, she seems younger than-- Well, well! we never thought while I was with your sister at St. Helen's, helping to take care of your poor brother, you know, how it would all turn out. There was a young man who used to bring roses,--I forget his name,--and one day Mrs. Gibson said-- Her husband had weak lungs and they came out to Colorado on that account, but I believe he-- They were talking of building a house, and I meant to ask-- But there, I forgot; one does grow so forgetful if one travels much and sees a good many people; but as I was saying--he got well, I think.”

”Who, Mr. Gibson?” asked Elsie, quite bewildered.

”Oh, no! not Mr. Gibson, of course. He died, and Mrs. Gibson married again. Some man she met out at St. Helen's, I believe it was, and I heard that her children didn't like it; but he was rich, I believe and of course-- Riches have wings,--you know that proverb of course,--but it makes a good deal of difference whether they fly toward you or away from you.”

”Indeed it does,” said Elsie, much amused. ”But you asked me if somebody got well. Who was it?”

”Why, your brother of course. He didn't die, did he?”

”Oh dear, no! He is living at St. Helen's now, and perfectly well and strong.”

”Well, that must be a great comfort to you all. I never did think that he was as ill as your sister fancied he was. Girls will get anxious, and when people haven't had a great deal of experience they-- He used to laugh a great deal too, and when people do that it seems to me that their lungs-- But of course it was only natural at her age. I used to cheer her up all I could and say-- The air is splendid there, of course, and the sun somehow never seems to heat you up as it does at the East, though it _is_ hot, but I think when people have weak chests they'd better-- Dr. Hope doesn't think so, I know, but after all there are a great many doctors beside Dr. Hope, and-- Ellen quite agrees with me-- What was I saying.”

Elsie wondered on what fragment of the medley she would fix. She was destined never to know, for just then came the trample of hoofs and the ”Boys” rode up to the door.

She went out on the porch to meet them and break the news of the unexpected guests.

”That old thing!” cried Clarence, with unflattering emphasis. ”Oh, thunder! I thought we were safe from that sort of bore up here. I shall just cut down to the back and take a bite in the barn.”

”Indeed you will do nothing of the sort. Do you suppose I came up to this place, where company only arrives twice a year or so, to be that lonesome thing a cowboy's bride, that you might slip away and take bites in barns? No sir--not at all. You will please go upstairs, make yourself fit to be seen, and come down and be as polite as possible. Do you hear, Clare?”

She hooked one white finger in his b.u.t.tonhole, and stood looking in his face with a saucy gaze. Clarence yielded at once. His small despot knew very well how to rule him and to put down such short-lived attempts at insubordination as he occasionally indulged in.

”All right, Elsie, I'll go if I must. They're not to stay the night, are they?”

”Heaven forbid! No indeed, they are going back to the Ute Valley.”

He vanished, and presently re-appeared to conduct himself with the utmost decorum. He did not even fidget when referred to pointedly as ”the other young man,” by Mrs. Watson, with an accompaniment of nods and blinks and wreathed smiles which was, to say the least, suggestive.

Geoff's manners could be trusted under all circ.u.mstances, and the little meal pa.s.sed off charmingly.

”Good-by,” said Mrs. Watson, after she was safely seated in the carriage, as Clover sedulously tucked her wraps about her. ”It's really been a treat to see you. We shall talk of it often, and I know Ellen will say-- Oh, thank you, Miss Carr, you always were the kindest-- Yes, I know it isn't Miss Carr, and I ought to remember, but somehow-- Good-by, Mrs. Page. Somehow--it's very pretty up here certainly, and you have every comfort I'm sure, and you seem-- But it will be getting dark before long, and I don't like the idea of leaving you young things up here all by yourselves. Don't you ever feel a little afraid in the evenings? I suppose there are not any wild animals--though I remember-- But there, I mustn't say anything to discourage you, since you _are_ here, and have got to stay.”

”Yes, we have to stay,” said Clover, as she shook hands with Mr.

Phillips, ”and happily it is just what we all like best to do.” She watched the carriage for a moment or two as it b.u.mped down the road, its brake grinding sharply against the wheels, then she turned to the others with a look of comically real relief.

”It seems like a bad dream! I had forgotten how Phil and I used to feel when Mrs. Watson went on like that, and she always did go on like that.

How did we stand her?”

”Ellen seems nice,” remarked Elsie,--”Poor Ellen!”

”Geoff,” added Clarence, vindictively, ”this must not happen again. You and I must go to work below and shave off the hill and make it twice as steep! It will never do to have the High Valley made easy of access to old ladies from Boston who--”

”Who call you 'the other young man,'” put in naughty Elsie. ”Never mind, Clare. I share your feelings, but I don't think there is any risk. There is only one of her, and I am quite certain, from the scared look with which she alluded to our 'wild beasts,' that she never proposes to come again.”