e pretty bookshelves she found several of the latest
volumes of poetry and essays, and the bed, with its dainty covering and
ample spread, testified quite as plainly of taste and comfort. Her hands
were a-tremble as she put on the bright muslin gown which was all she had
for evening wear. She felt very much like the school-girl again, and after
she had done her best to look nice, she took a seat in the little rocker,
with intent to compose herself for her meeting with strangers. "I wish we
were dining without visitors," she said, as she heard a carriage drive up.
A little later a galloping horse entered the yard and stopped at the
door.

"It all sounds like a play," she said to herself, forgetting for the
moment that she was miles away from a town and in a lonely ranch-house
under the very shadows of the mountains.

She heard voices in the hall, and among them one with a very English
accent--one that sounded precisely like those she had heard on the stage.
It was the voice of a man, big, hearty, with that thick, throaty gurgle
which is so suggestive of London that one is certain to find a tweed suit
and riding-breeches associated with it.

At last she dared wait no longer, and taking courage from necessity,
descended the stairs--a pleasant picture of vigorous yet somewhat subdued
maidenhood.

V

TWO ON THE VERANDA

REDFIELD met his young guest in dinner-coat, looking extremely urban, and
presented his "friend and neighbor, Mr. Enderby."

Enderby turned out to be the owner of the voice with the English accent
which Lee Virginia had heard in the hall, but he was very nice, and a
moment later Mrs. Redfield entered with Mrs. Enderby, a large lady with a
smiling face. Then a voice she knew spoke from behind her: "I don't need a
presentation. Miss Wetherford and I have already met."

She turned to meet Ross Cavanagh, the young ranger.

"How did you get here?" she asked, in wonder.

"I rode across the hills; it's not far."

He too was in evening dress, and as she stared at him in surprise he
laughingly protested. "Please don't scrutinize this coat too closely. It's
the only one I've owned for ten years, and this is the only house in which
I'd _dare_ to wear it."

Bridges (who turned out to be a State senator) was a farmer-like elderly
man wearing a badly fitting serge suit. He was markedly Western; so was
his wife, who looked rather uneasy and hot.

It was all delightfully exciting to Lee Virginia, and