made you a fire and
done all sorts of things. How do you like the look of it? It's a decent
little place, isn't it? We must get Mrs. Templestowe to put us up to
some of her nice little dodges about furniture and so on, such as they
have at the other house. She and Mrs. Page have made it all tidy for us,
and put up lots of nice little curtains and things. They must have
worked awfully hard, too. Wasn't it good of them?"

"Very," said Imogen, rather stiffly. "I'm sure we're much obliged to
you, Mrs. Templestowe. I fear you have given yourself a great deal of
trouble."

The words were polite enough, but the tone was distinctly repellent.

"Oh, no," said Clover, lightly. "It was only fun to come up and arrange
a little beforehand. We were very glad to do it. Now, Elsie, you and I
will ride down, and leave these new housekeepers to discuss their plans
in peace. Dinner at six to-night, Lionel; and please send old Jose down
if you need anything. Don't stay too long or get too tired, Miss Young.
We shall have lunch about one; but if you are doing anything and don't
want to leave so early, you'll find some sardines and jam and a tin of
biscuits in that cupboard by the fire."

She and Elsie rode away accordingly. When they were out of hearing,
Clover remarked,--

"I wonder why that girl dislikes me so."

"Dislikes you! Clover, what do you mean? Nobody ever disliked you in
your life, or ever could."

"Yes, she does," persisted Clover. "She has got some sort of queer twist
in her mind regarding me, and I can't think what it is. It doesn't
really matter, and very likely she'll get over it presently; but I'm
sorry about it. It would be so pleasant all to be good friends together
up here, where there are so few of us."

Her tone was a little pathetic. Clover was used to being liked.

"Little wretch!" cried Elsie, with flashing eyes. "If I really thought
that she dared not to like you, I'd--I'd--, well, what would I
do?--import a grisly bear to eat her, or some such thing! I suppose an
Indian could be found who for a consideration would undertake to scalp
Miss Imogen Young, and if she doesn't behave herself he _shall_ be
found. But you're all mistaken, Clovy; you must be. She's only stiff and
dull and horribly English, and very tired after her journey. She'll be
all right in a day or two. If she isn't, I shall 'go for' her without
mercy."

"Well, perhaps it is that." It was easier and pleasanter to imagine
Imogen tired th