he was able to sit up just lay
back in her chair and gazed at the mountains in a dreamy fashion for
hours together.

"This will never do," Lionel declared. "We must hearten her up somehow,"
which he proceeded to do, after the blundering fashion of the ordinary
man, by a series of thrilling anecdotes about cattle and their vagaries,
refractory cows who turned upon their herders and "horned" them, and
wild steers who chased mounted men, overtook and gored them; how Felipe
was stampeded and Pepe just escaped with his life. The result of this
"heartening," process was that Imogen, in her weak state, conceived a
horror of ranch work, and passed the hours of his absence in a subdued
agony of apprehension concerning him. He was very surprised and contrite
when scolded by Clover.

"What shall I talk to her about, then?" he demanded ruefully. "I can't
bear to see her sit so dull and silent. Poor Moggy! and cattle are the
only subjects of conversation that we have up here."

"Talk about yourself and herself and the funny things that happened when
you were little, and pet her all you can; but pray don't allude to
horned animals of any kind. She's so quiet only because she is weak.
Presently we shall see her brighten."

And so they did. With the first breath of autumn, full of cool sparkle
and exhilaration, Imogen began to rally. Color stole back to her lips,
vigor to her movements; each day she could do a little and a little
more. Her first coming out to dinner was treated as a grand event. She
was placed in a cushioned chair and served like a queen. Lionel was in
raptures at seeing her in her old place, at the head of the table,
"better than new," as he asserted; and certainly Imogen had never in her
life been so pretty. They had cut her long hair during the illness
because it was falling out so fast; the short rings round her face were
very becoming, the sunburn of the summer had worn off and her complexion
was delicately fair. Clover had dressed her in a loose jacket of
pale-pink flannel which Elsie had fitted and made for her; it was
trimmed with soft frills of lace, and knots of ribbon, and Geoff had
brought up a half-opened tea rose which exactly matched it.

"I shall carry you home with me when I go," she told Imogen as she
helped her undress. "You must come down and make us a good long visit. I
can't and won't have you left alone up here, to keep the house and sit
for hours every day imagining that Lionel is being gor