ing in a hollow, and the gold which was already creeping
over the wheat; it glowed as she looked at the mountains, and shone as she
drew long breaths of the clear, bracing air; it was the self-same
eagerness which lay deep in the gray eyes of her grand-niece Virginia.

As they drew near their journey's end, and came in sight of the white
ranch-house behind the cottonwoods, Aunt Deborah made her final
preparations. With her handkerchief she brushed every speck of dust from
her black dress, settled the old-fashioned brooch at her neck, gave a
final straightening to her bonnet, and pulled her cotton gloves on more
smoothly before again folding her hands on her lap. She sat up straighter
than ever as Alec turned the horse down the lane.

She seemed a little troubled about something when she saw the group of
young people gathered at the porch and waiting for her.

"Alec," she whispered, "the cherries on my bonnet? They worry me. I want
to be young, but being long toward eighty I mustn't be childish. What do
you think, Alec? I wouldn't displease Virginia for anything!"

"Couldn't be nicer, ma'am," reassured Alec. "You need 'em for a touch o'
life to your black."

Thus assured, the little old lady sat in state, her eyes glowing and her
folded hands trembling with excitement.

"No, John," she said a few moments later, as she declined Mr. Hunter's
outstretched arms. "No, thank you. When I get so I have to be lifted out,
I'm not coming any more. Turn just a little more, Alec. There! Here I
am!"

It was her grand-niece whom she greeted first.

"My dear!" she cried, holding the tall, gray-eyed girl at arms' length.
"How you grow! John, she's grown an inch since she rode over a month ago.
I believe upon my soul she has. And looks more like you every day! Kiss
your old aunt, dear! She's plum proud of you!"

Then she turned to the others, whom Virginia proudly introduced one by
one.

"It's a blessed sight--all these young folks together," she said, shaking
hands with them all. "Except for Pioneer Reunions, I haven't seen so many
all to once for fifty years. And so you all come from away back East--the
place we used to call home? It ain't that any longer to us old folks--but
the memories are dear all the same!"

She stepped briskly upon the porch and toward the chair Virginia had
placed for her. The Vigilantes and Aunt Nan watched her, fascinated.
Virginia had told them of her wedding journey across the plains in '64; of
t