ming farm-houses, and the western sky grew ever
more glorious with its plum-color and saffron, and the range reasserted
its mastery over the girl. At last they came to the very jaws of the
canon; and there, in a deep natural grove of lofty cottonwood-trees,
Redfield passed before a high rustic gate which marked the beginning of
his estate. The driveway was of gravel, and the intermingling of
transplanted shrubs and pine-trees showed the care of the professional
gardener.

The house was far from being a castle; indeed, it was very like a house in
Bryn-Mawr, except that it was built entirely of half-hewn logs, with a
wide projecting roof. Giant hydrangeas and other flowering shrubs bordered
the drive, and on the rustic terrace a lady in white was waiting.

Redfield slowed down, and scrambled ungracefully out; but his voice was
charming as he said: "Eleanor, this it Miss Wetherford. She was on the
point of getting the blues, so I brought her away," he explained.

Mrs. Redfield, quite as urban as the house, was a slim little woman of
delicate habit, very far from the ordinary conception of a rancher's wife.
Her manner was politely considerate, but not heatedly cordial (the visitor
was not precisely hers), and though she warmed a little after looking into
Virginia's face, she could not by any stretch of phrase be called
cordial.

"Are you tired? would you like to lie down before dinner?" she asked.

"Oh no, indeed. Nothing ever tires me," Virginia responded, with a smile.

"You look like one in perfect health," continued her hostess, in the
envious tone of one who knew all too well what ill-health meant. "Let me
show you to your room."

The house was not precisely the palace the cowboy had reported it to be,
but it was charmingly decorated, and the furnishings were tasteful. To the
girl it was as if she had been transported with instant magic from the
horrible little cow-town back to the home of one of her dearest friends in
Chester. She was at once exalted and humbly grateful.

"We dine at seven," Mrs. Redfield was saying, "so you can take a cup of
tea without spoiling your dinner. Will you venture it?"

"If you please."

"Very well; come down soon, and I'll have it ready. Mr. Redfield, I'm
sure, will want some."

Virginia's heart was dancing with delight of this home as she came down
the stairs a little later. She found Mr. Redfield at the farther end of a
long sitting-room, whose dim light was as restful (afte