as he
supposed; but she no longer had a cord upon his neck, a staff in her
hand. A hundred chickens, well grown now, followed her about, vocal of
their desire for attention. She turned to them, taking down the little
sack which contained the leavings of the wheat that had been threshed
not so long ago here.

"Chick, chick, chick!" she called gently--"_chick_ee, _chick_ee!" So
she stood, Lady Bountiful for them as they swarmed about her feet in
the dooryard.

She heard the clang of the new gate, and turned, her hand shading her
eyes to see who was coming.

As she stood she made a splendid picture of young womanhood, ruddy and
brown, clear of skin and eye, very fair indeed to look upon. The droop
of the corners of her mouth was gone. Her gaze was direct and free.
She walked easily, strong and straight and deep of bosom, erect of
head, flat of back, as fit for love as any woman of ancient Greece.
Such had been the ministrations of the sagebrush land for Mary Gage,
that once was the weakling, Mary Warren.

She saw two figures coming slowly along the well-worn track from the
gate. She could not hear the comment the one made to the other as they
both advanced slowly, leaning together as gossiping women will, like
two tired oxen returning from the field.

"Is that her?" asked one of the newcomers, a ponderous sort of woman,
whose feet turned out alarmingly as she walked.

"Sure it's her," said Karen Jensen. "Who's it going to be if it ain't
her? Ain't she nice-looking, sort of, after all? And to think she can
see now as good as anybody! Yes, that's her.

"How do you do, Mis' Gage?"

She spoke now aloud as Mary came toward them smiling. The dimples in
her cheek, resurrected of late, gave a girlishness and tenderness to
her face that it once had lacked in her illness.

"I'm well, thank you, Mrs. Jensen. It's a glorious day, isn't it?
I've got some fish for you. I was going to tell Minna to take them
down to you when she went home. She's a dear, your Minna."

"Well, it's right fine you should catch fish for us now," said Mrs.
Jensen. "I'll be obliged for some--my man don't seem to get time to go
fishing."

"Make you acquainted with Mis' Davidson, Mis' Gage," she continued.
"This is the school teacher. She comes every fall to teach up above,
when she's done living on her Idaho homestead, summers."

"How do you do, Miss--Mrs. Davidson," began Mary, offering her hand.
"If you know Mrs. Jensen I ought