ce large one with a view of
the mountains. I wish there were one just like it for you. The doctor says
that it's very important for him to have a great deal of air in his room."

"Doctors always say that; and of course Dr. Hope, being a friend of yours
and all--It's quite natural he should give you the preference. Though the
Phillips's are accustomed--but there, it's no use; only, as I tell Ellen,
Boston is the place for me, where my family is known, and people realize
what I'm used to."

"I'm so sorry," Clover said again. "Perhaps somebody will go away, and
Mrs. Marsh have a front room for you before long."

"She did say that she might. I suppose she thinks some of her boarders
will be dying off. In fact, there is one--that tall man in gray in the
reclining-chair--who didn't seem to me likely to last long. Well, we will
hope for the best. I'm not one who likes to make difficulties."

This prospect, together with dinner, which was presently announced, raised
Mrs. Watson's spirits a little, and Clover left her in the parlor,
exchanging experiences and discussing symptoms with some ladies who had
sat opposite them at table. Mrs. Hope came for a call; a pretty little
woman, as friendly and kind as her husband. Then Clover and Phil went out
for a stroll about the town. Their wonder increased at every turn; that a
place so well equipped and complete in its appointments could have been
created out of nothing in fifteen years was a marvel!

After two or three turns they found themselves among shops, whose
plate-glass windows revealed all manner of wares,--confectionery, new
books, pretty glass and china, bonnets of the latest fashion. One or two
large pharmacies glittered with jars--purple and otherwise--enough to
tempt any number of Rosamonds. Handsome carriages drawn by fine horses
rolled past them, with well-dressed people inside. In short, St. Helen's
was exactly like a thriving Eastern town of double its size, with the
difference that here a great many more people seemed to ride than to
drive. Some one cantered past every moment,--a lady alone, two or three
girls together, or a party of rough-looking men in long boots, or a single
ranchman sitting loose in his stirrups, and swinging a stock whip.

Clover and Phil were standing on a corner, looking at some "Rocky Mountain
Curiosities" displayed for sale,--minerals, Pueblo pottery, stuffed
animals, and Indian blankets; and Phil had just commented on the beauty of
a bla