in Woodford in a
thousand years."

"That is true, Blue Bonnet. You are right. What did the General think of
the picture?"

"He loves it! I reckon it looked better to him than a West Point uniform
with nothing inside of it."

Mrs. Clyde smiled.

"I think the General got over that dream long ago, Blue Bonnet. He is
perfectly delighted with Alec's recovery."

Blue Bonnet put the picture on the mantel-shelf, and, folding her work
neatly, went to the window and looked out. She stood a moment lost in
thought.

"I think I'll go for a gallop, Grandmother," she said, turning suddenly.
"I've just time before dinner. I won't have many more chances."

"The clouds look heavy, dear."

"I know; that's why I want to go. I love the damp air in my face. It's
so refreshing."

But out among the hills where the clouds lay the thickest and the wind
blew the sharpest, the world seemed a little dreary to Blue Bonnet.

"You poor little things," she said to the sparrows hopping from fence
to tree forlornly. "The prospect of a New England winter is not as
alluring as it might be, is it? Why don't you try Texas? It's warm down
there--and sunshiny--and--

"What's the matter with me?" she said, pulling herself up in the saddle.
Then she laughed.

"I know. I'm homesick because I'm going away, and it's perfectly
ridiculous. Who ever heard of any one being homesick before they
started? I sha'n't stand for it!

"It's a good thing Aunt Lucinda didn't hear that, Chula. She'd be
horrified. What I mean is, I sha'n't let it creep in. If I do it will
make me miserable, and I can't afford to be miserable with Uncle Cliff
coming."

Blue Bonnet turned Chula sharply and headed toward home, forcing a
little tune to her lips, a smile to her eyes, with a determination that
would have done credit to a much older person.

"Why, dearie, you did not ride far, did you?" was Grandmother's cheery
welcome.

"No, it was bleaker than I thought. The wind was cold, too, but it was
refreshing just the same."

Mrs. Clyde eyed her lovingly.

Little tendrils from the fly-away hair strayed over her forehead and a
healthy red showed through the tan of her cheeks.

Her grandmother thought of a sweet wild rose just bursting into bloom
as she looked at her. There was something about Blue Bonnet that
breathed the spirit of all wild things--flowers and sweeping prairies,
broad expanses.

"There is a letter for you, Blue Bonnet. You must have known to have
hur