hildren she did not know what to do, but she had never heard of
one who had so many that she did not know how many. Yet she supposed that
such a thing might be true, and accepted the statement in good faith.

"Pap was tellin' me when I was home that Senator Gleason had bought the
farm, and it was him that fixed it up so grand. Pap says they've only
Jersey cows on the place,--no common stock--and chickens that they raise
for layin', and some for hatchin', and some that's for eatin'. But the
Senator don't never stay up there much. He farms just for fun. But he must
work pretty hard to get any fun out of it. I was raised on a farm and
stayed there till I was married, and I never saw no fun anywhere about."

Again the laugh and again the merry twinkle came to her eyes.

"It's just the way we're used to. If you had never been on a farm, perhaps
you'd think it lots of fun to stay on one for awhile. I'm sure I
thoroughly enjoy every minute I spend on the Creighton farm. The days are
far too short for me."

"But perhaps you don't have no work to do. Gettin' up early is what makes
it hard."

"I get up at daybreak, and I am busy every moment. I wash and dress and
feed a dozen children. I have no moment to myself."

Suddenly Mrs. Koons seemed to understand. "It's too bad," she said
sympathetically. "Life's pretty hard for a woman when she's a family and
has to look out for herself."

When they had finished their lunch, and began gathering and folding the
napkins, Elizabeth observed something which had escaped Mrs. Koons'
notice. The left hand of their unknown companion bore a heavy gold band,
undoubtedly a wedding-ring, guarded by a diamond noticeable for its size
and brilliance. Her hands, too, were worthy of notice. They were white and
soft, showing both good care and skilled manicuring. They were not the
hands of one accustomed to manual labor.

As Elizabeth assisted her in clearing away the remains of the lunch, the
conversation was directed toward herself.

"You got on the train at Bitumen," she said. "I took particular notice of
you, for there one expects to see only foreigners board the car."

Elizabeth smiled. She knew how few were the times when an American-born
woman or girl ever was seen near the station.

"We are mostly foreigners there," she replied.

"Don't you find it dull?"

"I never have so far. But then I never have known any life but that at
Bitumen. This is my first trip away from home." Her compa