rst papers, you see," she announced, pointing to the
miniature menagerie.

"Where did you learn to do that?" he asked.

"A man showed me," she said noncommittally.

"What else can you cut?" demanded Francis.

"I can cut an airship."

"Cut me one."

"To-morrow," said Mrs. Kingdon. "The time limit is up."

"Did you ever go up in an airship?" asked Billy eagerly.

"No; but I know a man who flies," she boasted.

"Come upstairs and tell us about him," demanded Billy.

As his mother cordially seconded the invitation, Pen accompanied them to
the nursery. When the last "good nights" had been said to the children,
Mrs. Kingdon led the way to her room.

"The moon shouldn't seem so far away," declared Pen, looking out of the
broad window. "We are up so high."

"I haven't yet ceased to wonder at these hills," rejoined Mrs. Kingdon.
"We bought this ranch merely for a vacation place, but three-fourths of
our time is spent up here, as we have become so attached to it. Mr.
Kingdon is an artist, so he never tires of watching the hills and the sky.
Sometimes we feel selfish with so much happiness--when there isn't enough
to go around."

"I know you take but a small percentage of what you give. Shall I tell my
story now?"

"I think I know it--or some of it, at least," replied Mrs. Kingdon,
looking at her intently.

Pen looked up with a startled gesture.

"You do! How--"

"When I was in your room just before dinner, it came to me where I had
seen you before. It was about a year ago--in San Francisco--in a police
station. I made inquiries; was interested in you and tried to see you, but
we were suddenly called home. I should like to hear more about your life
and what brought you to these hills."

"I wish no one else need know it," she said entreatingly, when she had
told her story in detail.

"Kurt is surely entitled to know it _all_," replied Mrs. Kingdon.

"I suppose he is; though I wish he didn't know as much as he already does.
It isn't necessary to tell him to-night, is it? I am still tired in spite
of my long rest."

"To-morrow will do. If you like, I will tell him, and I wish you and he
would leave the entire matter--about Jo and all--in my hands."

"Most gladly," assented Pen. "But where is Jo?"

"He is on a neighboring ranch--temporarily, only."

"There is something else I should like to know. Why is Kurt so different
from most men? Doesn't he ever look pleasant, or was his gloom all on my
account?"