d, and Bertha walked its wide halls with breathless delight.
After a hurried survey of the interior, they came out upon the broad
veranda, and lingered long in awe and wonder of the outlook. To the west
lay a glorious garden of fruits and flowers; a fountain was playing over
the rich green grass; high above the tops of the pear and peach trees
(which made a little copse) rose the purple peaks of the Rampart range.

"Oh, isn't it great!" exclaimed Bertha.

Haney turned to the agent with a tense look on his pale face--a look of
exultant power.

"Make out your papers," said he, quietly. "We take the place--as it
stands."

Bertha was overwhelmed by this flourish of the enchanter's wand--but
only for a moment. No sooner was the contract signed than she roused
herself as to a new business venture. "Well, now, the first thing is
furniture. Let's see! There is some carpets and curtains in the place,
isn't there? And a steel range. It's up to me to rustle the balance of
the outfit together right lively."

And so she set to work quite as she would have done in outfitting a new
hotel--so many beds, so many chairs in a room, so many dressers, and
soon had a long list made out and the order placed.

She spent every available moment of her time for the next two days
getting the kitchen and dining-room in running order, and when she had
two beds ready insisted on moving in. "We can kind o' camp out in the
place till we get stocked up. I'm crazy to be under our own roof."

Haney, almost as eager as she, consented, and on the third day they
drove up to the door, dismissed their hired coachman, and stepped inside
the gate--master and mistress of an American chateau.

Mart turned, and, with misty eyes and a voice choked with happiness,
said: "Well, darlin', we have it now--the palace of the fairy stories."

"It's great," she repeated, musingly; "but I can't make it seem like a
home--mebbe it'll change when I get it filled with furniture, but the
garden is sure all right."

They took their first meal on the porch overlooking the mountains,
listening to the breeze in the vines. It was heavenly sweet after the
barren squalor of their Cripple Creek home, and they did little but gaze
and dream.

"We need a team," Bertha said, at last.

"Buy one," replied Haney.

So Bertha bought a carriage and a fine black span. This expenditure
involved a coachman, and to fill that position an old friend of
Williams'--a talkative and officious