ly as though she had never been a New
England school marm with a perfect horror of slang. She wondered if the
ranch overseer had noticed her break.
When Jim turned and smiled down on Miss Drew, she was no longer the
superior person he had just left.
"You'll learn to like it better in Wyoming, once you can ride," he
answered kindly. "Why, when the spring comes, our barren prairies
blossom like a rose and the birds are about everywhere. The ranch girls
want you to get fond of it out here. There ain't any feeling much worse
than being homesick for the things you left behind you. Now run along
and rig yourself up in some kind of a riding habit of the girls. I will
have the pony waiting by the time you are ready."
Ruth rushed into the house, wondering why she felt so absurdly young and
happy all at once.
The young chaperon did not acquire the art of learning to ride
horseback in a single lesson. But Jim was far too sweet-tempered to let
her know that she was the hardest pupil he ever tried to teach. Both the
master and pupil were elated when Ruth finally managed to sit straight
in her saddle, without slipping to either side, and to hold her reins
while the pony walked sedately up and down with Jim at his head.
Late that afternoon, Ruth was sitting alone by the living-room window.
It was growing dark. The day had been a tiring one and she was feeling a
tiny bit depressed. Jack cantered up to the house, gave her pony over to
their colored man, and without so much as a glance at Ruth, strode past
the living-room into her own room and closed the door behind her.
Ruth sighed. It did seem to her that Jack might have come in to speak to
her, thinking that she had been by herself all day. Ruth was beginning
to make up her mind that it was an utterly hopeless desire that she and
Jack should ever be friends. Jack was so reserved and unapproachable and
so bent on having her own way.
Ruth did not expect Frieda and Jean to return for another hour. Mrs.
Simpson had promised to send some one over with them, so they could have
a longer visit with her. It was growing spooky in the living-room, with
only the dancing shadows of the fire. Aunt Ellen had forgotten to bring
in the lamp and Ruth started toward the kitchen down the wide hall.
Outside Jack's door she heard a queer noise that startled her. It was a
strange choking sound, as though some one were in pain. Ruth listened.
The sound was not repeated, but the room was in pe
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