us and greasewood, its bare
red buttes and lank rows of cotton-wood trees, this Eden of green and
bloom had a double charm for her.

For a long time she wandered up and down its winding paths, finding many
a shady pleasance hidden away among its labyrinths of hedges, where one
might be tempted to stop and dream away a whole long summer afternoon.
But she did not pause until she came to a sort of court surrounded by
rustic arbours, where a fountain splashed in the centre, and an ancient
sun-dial marked the hours. With a pleased cry of recognition she ran
across the closely clipped turf, to read the motto carved on the dial's
face: "I only mark the hours that shine."

"The very words that Betty wrote in my Good Times Book the day she gave
it to me," she said, opening her diary to verify the motto on the
fly-leaf.

"It was beyond my wildest dreams then that I'd ever be standing here in
Warwick Hall garden, reading them for myself! I mustn't wait another
minute to make a record of this good time."

Choosing a seat in one of the arbours where a humming bird was darting
in and out through a tangle of vines, she opened the thick red book in
which she had kept a faithful record of her doings and goings for the
last two years, and glanced at the last entry. The date was such an old
one that she read the last few pages to refresh her memory.

"THE WIGWAM, Thursday, August 4th.

"Jack came home yesterday to our joyful surprise. Mr. Sherman had
telegraphed him to come at once to Kentucky, on a flying trip to
consult with the directors of the mine. As he had to pass through
Phoenix anyhow, he managed it so that he could stay over night
with us. I am so happy over the prospect of his having a chance at
last to see our 'Promised Land' that I am fairly beside myself. I
sat up half the night making cookies and gingerbread and rolls, and
broiling chickens for his lunch. He says he's been hungry for
home-cooking so long that it will go away ahead of dining-car fare.

"Everything turned out beautifully, and while I waited for them to
bake I wrote a list of the things he must see and questions he must
ask at The Locusts; things I've wanted to know ever since I came
back from Lloydsboro Valley, and yet you can't very well find out
just in letters. He left on this morning's early train. If he finds
he can take the time, he's go