England. Nevertheless, he
straightened his shoulders, and held out his hand.

"I've wanted to see you, sir," he said, "to tell you that I was an awful
cad last night, and that I'm dead ashamed of it!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE WINTHROP COAT-OF-ARMS

Priscilla, sitting under the biggest cottonwood, was writing to Miss
Wallace, in her best handwriting, on her best stationery, in her best
style. One unconsciously brought forth the best she had for Miss Wallace.
She was telling of the Emperor and of the Cinnamon Creek ranger, sure that
Miss Wallace would be glad to add both to her collection of interesting
people. Interruptions were many. Carver, moody and silent, rode over,
looking for entertainment, and she did her best; Vivian, having reached a
halt in her daily Latin review, asked assistance; little David, Alec's
adorable son, had come over with his mother for the afternoon, and
Priscilla found him irresistible; and at last Donald, riding homeward, hot
and tired from working on the range, had stopped for rest and refreshment.
With Hannah's help Priscilla had provided the refreshment, and the ground
beneath the cottonwood was giving the rest.

"Some stationery!" said Donald, raising himself on his elbow to look at
the pile of sheets which Priscilla had placed in readiness on the grass.
"A shield and an eagle and a lion and a unicorn all at once, to say
nothing of Latin. What does it say? '_Courage--my----_'"

"_Courage is my heritage_," translated Priscilla proudly. "It's our family
coat-of-arms, and that's the motto. We've had it for years and years, ever
since the Wars of the Roses. A Winthrop was shield-bearer for Edward, Duke
of York, and Grandfather used to say we could be traced back to the Norman
Conquest."

"I see," said Donald politely, but with something very like amusement in
his blue eyes. "You New England folks are strong on crests and mottoes and
that sort of thing, aren't you?"

"No more than we should be," announced Priscilla a little haughtily. "We
are the oldest families for the most part, and I think we ought to
remember all those things about our ancestors. It's--it's
very--stimulating. The West is so excited over progress and
developing the country and all that," she finished a little disdainfully,
"that it doesn't care about family traditions or--or anything like that."

"Oh, I don't know," returned Donald. "It isn't so bad as that. We think a
fine family history is a splendid thing. I ve