England, and
hungry as a bear."

"Just from England? And hungry? Well, we are glad to see you, Mr.
Romayne." The girl came forward with a quick step and frankly offered
her brown, strong hand. "We're awfully glad to see you, Mr. Romayne,"
she repeated. "I ought to be embarrassed, I know, only I am so hungry."

"Just my fix, Miss Nora," said the young man. "I am really anxious to
be polite. I feel we should decline the invitation to dinner which your
sister has pressed upon us; we know it is a shame to drop in on you like
this all unprepared, but I am so hungry, and really that smell is so
irresistible that I feel I simply cannot be polite."

"Don't!" cried the girl, "or rather, do, and stay. There's enough of
something, and Joe will look after the horses." She put her hands to her
lips and called, "J-o-o-e!"

A voice from the woods answered her, followed by Joe himself. "Here,
Joe, take the horses and unsaddle them and tether them out somewhere."

Despite Kathleen's fears there was dinner enough for all.

"This is perfectly stunning!" said Romayne, glancing round the little
clearing and up at the trees waving overhead, through the interstices of
whose leafy canopy showed patches of blue sky. "Gorgeous, by Jove! Words
are futile things for really great moments."

"Ripping," said Nora, smiling impudently into his face. "Awfully
jolly! A-1! Top hole! That's the lot, I think, according to the best
authorities. Do you know any others?"

"I beg pardon, what?" said Romayne, looking up from his fried pork and
potatoes.

"Those are all I have learned in English at least," said Nora. "I am
keen for some more. They are Oxford, I believe. Have you any others?"

Mr. Romayne diverted his attention from his dinner. "What is she talking
about, Miss Gwynne? I confess to be entirely absorbed in these fried
potatoes."

"Words, words, Mr. Romayne, vocabulary, adjectives," replied Nora.

"Ah," said Romayne, "but why should one worry about words, especially
adjectives, when one has such divine realities as these to deal with?"

"Have some muffles, Mr. Romayne," said Nora.

"Muffles? Now what may muffles be?"

"Muffles are a cross between muffins and waffles."

"Please elucidate their nature and origin," said Mr. Romayne.

"Let me show you," said Kathleen. She sprang up, dived into the cabin
and returned with a large, round, hard biscuit in her hand. "This is
Hudson Bay hard tack, the stand-by of all western people--Hudso