In the High Valley

by Susan Coolidge

  CHAPTER IV.

  IN THE HIGH VALLEY.

  MEANWHILE, as the "Limited" bore the young English travellers on theirwestern way, a good deal of preparation was going on for their benefitin that special nook of the Rocky mountains toward which their coursewas directed. It was one of those clear-cut, jewel-like mornings whichseem peculiar to Colorado, with dazzling gold sunshine, a cloudless skyof deep sapphire blue, and air which had touched the mountain snowssomewhere in its nightly blowing, and still carried on its wings thecool pure zest of the contact.

  Hours were generally early in the High Valley, but to-day they were alittle earlier than usual, for every one had a sense of much to be done.Clover Templestowe did not always get up to administer to her husbandand brother-in-law their "stirrup-cup" of coffee; but this morning shewas prompt at her post, and after watching them ride up the valley, andstanding for a moment at the open door for a breath of the scented wind,she seated herself at her sewing-machine. A steady whirring humpresently filled the room, rising to the floor above and quickening themovements there. Elsie, running rapidly downstairs half an hour later,found her sister with quite a pile of little cheese-cloth squares andoblongs folded on the table near her.

  "Dear me! are those the Youngs' curtains you are doing?" she asked. "Ifully meant to get down early and finish my half. That wretched littlePhillida elected to wake up and demand ''tories' from one o'clock till aquarter past two. 'Hence these tears.' I overslept myself withoutknowing it."

  Phillida was Elsie's little girl, two years and a half old now, and Dr.Carr's namesake.

  "How bad of her!" said Clover, smiling. "I wish children could be bornwith a sense of the fitness of times and seasons. Jeffy is pretty goodas to sleeping, but he is dreadful about eating. Half the time hedoesn't want anything at dinner; and then at half-past three, or aquarter to eight, or ten minutes after twelve, or some such uncanonicalhour, he is so ragingly hungry that he can scarcely wait till I fetchhim something. He is so tiresome about his bath too. Fancy a youngsemi-Britain objecting to 'tub.' I've circumvented him to-day, however,for Geoff has promised to wash him while you and I go up to set the newhouse in order. Baby is always good with Geoff."

  "So he is," remarked Elsie as she moved about giving little tidyingtouches here and there to books and furniture. "I never knew a fatherand child who suited each other so perfectly. Phil flirts with Clarenceand he is very proud of her notice, but I think they are mutually rathershy; and he always touches her as though she were a bit of eggshellchina, that he was afraid of breaking."

  The room in which the sisters were talking bore little resemblance tothe bare ranch-parlor of old days. It had been enlarged by asemi-circular bay window toward the mountain view, which made it half aslong again as it then was; and its ceiling had been raised two feet onthe occasion of Clarence's marriage, when great improvements had beenundertaken to fit the "hut" for the occupation of two families. Thesolid redwood beams which supported the floor above had been left bare,and lightly oiled to bring out the pale russet-orange color of the wood.The spaces between the beams were rough-plastered; and on the decorationof this plaster, while in a soft state, a good deal of time had beenexpended by Geoffrey Templestowe, who had developed a turn for householdart, and seemed to enjoy lying for hours on his back on a staging, cladin pajamas and indenting the plaster with rosettes and sunkenhalf-rounds, using a croquet ball and a butter stamp alternately, thewhole being subsequently finished by a coat of dull gold paint. He andClover had themselves hung the walls with its pale orange-brown paper; aherder with a turn for carpentry had laid the new floor of narrowredwood boards. Clover had stained the striped pattern along its edges.In that remote spot, where trained and regular assistance could be hadonly at great trouble and expense, it was desirable that every oneshould utilize whatever faculty or accomplishment he or she possessed,and the result was certainly good. The big, homelike room, with itswell-chosen colors and look of taste and individuality, left nothing tobe desired in the way of comfort, and was far prettier and more originalthan if ordered cut-and-dried from some artist in effects, to whom itsdoing would have been simply a job and not an enjoyment.

  Clover's wedding presents had furnished part of the rugs and etchingsand bits of china which ornamented the room, but Elsie's, who hadmarried into a "present-giving connection," as her sister Johnnie calledit, did even more. Each sister was supposed to own a privatesitting-room, made out of the little sleeping-chambers of what ClarencePage stigmatized as the "beggarly bachelor days," which were throwntogether two in one on either side the common room. Clover and Elsie hadtaken pains and pleasure in making these pretty and different from eachother, but as a matter of fact the "private" parlors were not private atall; for the two families were such very good friends that theygenerally preferred to be together. And the rooms were chiefly of usewhen the house was full of guests, as in the summer it sometimes was,when Johnnie had a girl or two staying with her, or a young man with atendency toward corners, or when Dr. Carr wanted to escape from hisyoung people and analyze flowers at leisure or read his newspaper inpeace and quiet.

  The big room in the middle was used by both families as a dining andsitting place. Behind it another had been added, which served as a sortof mixed library, office, dispensary, and storage-room, and over thefour, extending to the very edge of the wide verandas which flanked thehouse on three sides, were six large bedrooms. Of these each familyowned three, and they had an equal right as well to the spare rooms inthe building which had once been the kitchen. One of these, called"Phil's room," was kept as a matter of course for the use of that younggentleman, who, while nominally studying law in an office at St.Helen's, contrived to get out to the Valley very frequently. Theinterests of the party were so identical that the matter of ownershipseldom came up, and signified little. The sisters divided thehouse-keeping between them amicably, one supplementing the other; theimprovements were paid for out of a common purse; their guests, beingequally near and dear, belonged equally to all. It was an idealarrangement, which one quick tongue or jealous or hasty temper wouldhave brought to speedy conclusion, but which had now lasted to thesatisfaction of all parties concerned for nearly four years.

  That Clarence and Elsie should fancy each other had been a secret thoughunconfessed dream of Clover's ever since her own engagement, whenClarence had endeared himself by his manly behavior and realunselfishness under trying circumstances. But these dreams are rarelygratified, and she was not at all prepared to have hers come true withsuch unexpected ease and rapidity. It happened on this wise. Six monthsafter her marriage, when she and Geoff and Clarence, working together,had just got the "hut" into a state to receive visitors, Mr. and Mrs.Dayton, who had never forgotten or lost their interest in their prettyfellow-traveller of two years before, hearing from Mrs. Ashe howdesirous Clover was of a visit from her father and sisters, wrote andasked the Carrs to go out with them in car 47 as far as Denver, and bepicked up and brought back two months later when the Daytons returnedfrom Alaska. The girls were wild to go, it seemed an opportunity toogood to be lost; so the invitation was accepted, and, as sometimeshappens, the kindness shown had an unlooked-for return. Mr. Dayton wasseized with a sudden ill turn on the journey, of a sort to which he wassubject, and Dr. Carr was able not only to help him at the moment, butto suggest a regimen and treatment which was of permanent benefit tohim. Doctor and patient grew very fond of each other, and every yearsince, when car 47 started on its western course, urgent invitationscame for any or all of them to take advantage of it and go out to seeClover; whereby that hospitable housekeeper gained many visits whichotherwise she would never have had, Colorado journeys being expensiveluxuries.

  But this is anticipating. No visit, they all agreed, ever compared withthat first one, when they were so charmed to meet, and everything wasnew and surprising and delightful. The girls were enchanted with theValley, the climate, the wild fresh life, the riding, the flowers, withClover's little home made pretty and convenient by such simple means,while
Dr. Carr revelled in the splendid air, which seemed to lift theburden of years from his shoulders.

  And presently began the excitement of watching Clarence Page's rapid andsuccessful wooing of Elsie. No grass grew under his feet this time, youmay be sure. He fell in love the very first evening, deeply andheartily, and he lost no opportunity of letting Elsie know hissentiments. There was no rival in his way at the High Valley orelsewhere, and the result seemed to follow as a matter of course. Theywere engaged when the party went back to Burnet, and married thefollowing spring, Mr. Dayton fitting up 47 with all manner ofsentimental and delightful appointments, and sending the bride andbridegroom out in it,--as a wedding present, he said, but in truth thecar was a repository of wedding presents, for all the rugs and portieresand silken curtains and brass plaques and pretty pottery with which itwas adorned, and the flower-stands and Japanese kakemonos, were todisembark at St. Helen's and help to decorate Elsie's new home. All wentas was planned, and Clarence's life from that day to this had been, asClover mischievously told him, one paean of thanksgiving to her forrefusing him and opening the way to real happiness. Elsie suited him toperfection. Everything she said and did and suggested was exactly to hismind, and as for looks, Clover was dear and nice as could be, of course,and pretty,--well, yes, people would undoubtedly consider her a prettylittle woman; but as for any comparison between the two sisters, it wasquite out of the question! Elsie had so decidedly the advantage in everypoint, including that most important point of all, that she preferredhim to Geoff Templestowe and loved him as heartily as he loved her.Happiness and satisfied affection had a wonderfully softening influenceon Clarence, but it was equally droll and delightful to Clover to seehow absolutely Elsie ruled, how the least indication of her least fingeravailed to mould Clarence to her will,--Clarence, who had never yieldedeasily to any one else in the whole course of his life!

  So the double life flowed smoothly on in the High Valley, but not quiteso happily at Burnet, where Dr. Carr, bereft of four out of his sixchildren, was left to the companionship of the steady Dorry, and what hewas pleased to call "a highly precarious tenure of Miss Joanna." MissJoanna was a good deal more attractive than her father desired her tobe. He took gloomy views of the situation, was disposed to snub anyyoung man who seemed to be casting glances toward his last remainingtreasure, and finally announced that when Fate dealt her last and finalblow and carried off Johnnie, he should give up the practice of medicinein Burnet, and retire to the High Valley to live as physician inordinary to the community for the rest of his days. This prospect was soalluring to the married daughters that they turned at once into theveriest match-makers and were disposed to many Johnnie offimmediately,--it didn't much matter to whom, so long as they could getpossession of their father. Johnnie resented these manoeuvres highly,and obstinately refused to "remove the impediment," declaring thatself-sacrifice was all very well, but she couldn't and wouldn't see thatit was her duty to go off and be content with a dull anybody, merely forthe sake of giving papa up to that greedy Clover and Elsie, who hadeverything in the world already and yet were not content. She liked tobe at the head of the Burnet house and rule with a rod of iron, and makeDorry mind his _p_'s and _q_'s; it was much better fun than marrying anyone, and there she was determined to stay, whatever they might say ordo. So matters stood at the present time, and though Clover and Elsiestill cherished little private plans of their own, nothing, so far,seemed likely to come of them.

  Elsie had time to set the room in beautiful order, and Clover had nearlyfinished her hemming, before the sound of hoofs announced the return ofthe two husbands from their early ride. They came cantering down theside pass, with appetites sharpened by exercise, and quite ready for thebreakfast which Choo Loo presently brought in from the newcooking-cabin, set a little one side out of sight, in the shelter of thegrove. Choo Loo was still a fixture in the valley. He and his methodswere a puzzle and somewhat of a distress to the order-loving Clover, whodistrusted not a little the ways and means of his mysteriously conductedkitchen; but servants were so hard to come by at the High Valley, andChoo Loo was so steady and faithful and his viands on the whole so good,that she judged it wise to ask no questions and not look too closelyinto affairs but just take the goods the gods provided, and be thankfulthat she had any cook at all. Choo Loo was an amiable heathen also, andvery pleased to serve ladies, who appreciated his attempts atdecoration, for he had an eye for effect and loved to make thingspretty. Clover understood this and never forgot to notice and praise,which gratified Choo Loo, who had found his bachelor employers in theold days somewhat dull and unobservant in this respect.

  "Missie like?" he asked this morning, indicating the wreath of wildcranberry vine round the dish of chicken. Then he set a mound of whiteraspberries in the middle of the table, starred with gold-hearted browncoreopsis, and asked again, "Missie like dat?" pleased at Clover'sanswering nod and smile. Noiselessly he came and went in his white-shodfeet, fetching in one dish after another, and when all was done, makinga sort of dual salaam to the two ladies, and remarking "Allee yeadynow," after which he departed, his pigtail swinging from side to sideand his blue cotton garments flapping in the wind as he walked across tothe cook-house.

  Delicious breaths of roses and mignonette floated in as the partygathered about the breakfast table. They came from the flower-beds justoutside, which Clover sedulously tended, watered, and defended from theroving cattle, which showed a provoking preference for heliotropes overpenstamens whenever they had a chance to get at them. Cows were a greattrial, she considered; and yet after all they were the object of theirlives in the Valley, their _raison d'etre_, and must be put up withaccordingly.

  "Do you suppose the Youngs have landed yet?" asked Elsie as shequalified her husband's coffee with a dash of thick cream.

  "They should have got in last night if the steamer made her usual time.I dare say we shall find a telegram at St. Helen's to-morrow if we goin," answered her brother-in-law.

  "Yes, or possibly Phil will ride out and fetch it. He is always glad ofan excuse to come. I wonder what sort of girl Miss Young is. You andClover never have said much about her."

  "There isn't much to say. She's just an ordinary sort of girl,--niceenough and all that, not pretty."

  "Oh, Geoff, that's not quite fair. She's rather pretty, that is, shewould be if she were not stiff and shy and so very badly dressed. Ididn't get on very much with her at Clovelly, but I dare say we shalllike her here; and when she limbers out and becomes used to our ways,she'll make a nice neighbor."

  "Dear me, I hope so," remarked Elsie. "It's really quite important whatsort of a girl Miss Young turns out to be. A stiff person whom you hadto see every day would be horrid and spoil everything. The only thing weneed, the only possible improvement to the High Valley, would be a fewmore nice people, just two or three, with pretty little houses, youknow, dotted here and there in the side canyons, whom we could ride upto visit, and who would come down to see us, and dine and play whist anddance Virginia reels and 'Sally Waters' on Christmas Eve. That would bequite perfect. But I suppose it won't happen till nobody knows howlong."

  "I suppose so, too," said Geoff in a tone of well-simulated sympathy."Poor Elsie, spoiling for people! Don't set your heart on them. HighValley isn't at all a likely spot to make a neighborhood of."

  "A neighborhood! I should think not! A neighborhood would be horrid. Butif two or three people wanted to come,--really nice ones, you know,perfect charmers,--surely you and Clare wouldn't have the heart torefuse to sell them building lots?"

  "We are exactly a whist quartet now," said Clarence, patting his wife'sshoulder. "Cheer up, dear. You shall have your perfect charmers _when_they apply; but meantime changes are risky, and I am quite content withthings as they are, and am ready to dance Sally Waters with you at anytime with pleasure. Might I have the honor now, for instance?"

  "Indeed, no! Clover and I have to work like beavers on the Youngs'house. And, Clare, _we_ are quite a complete party in ourselves, as yousay; b
ut there are the children to be considered. Geoffy and Phillidawill want to play whist one of these days, and where is _their_ quartetto come from?"

  "Down they came, hand in hand, chattering as theywent."--PAGE 111]

  "We shall have to consider that point when they are a little nearer thewhist age. Here they come now. I hear the nursery door slam. They don'tlook particularly dejected about their future prospects, I must say."

  Four pairs of eyes turned expectantly toward the staircase, down whichthere presently came the dearest little pair of children that can beimagined. Clover's boy of three was as big as most people's boys offive, a splendid sturdy little Englishman in build, but with hismother's lovely eyes and skin. Phillida, whose real name was Philippa,was of a more delicate and slender make, with dark brown eyes and a maneof ruddy gold which repeated something of the tawny tints of herfather's hair and beard. Down they came hand in hand, little Philholding tightly to the polished baluster, chattering as they went, liketwo wood-thrushes. Neither of them had ever known any other childplaymates, and they were devoted to each other and quite happy together.Little Geoff from the first had adopted a protecting attitude toward hissmaller cousin, and had borne himself like a gallant little knight inthe one adventure of their lives, when a stray coyote, wandering nearthe house, showed his teeth to the two babies, whose nurse had left themalone for a moment, and Geoff, only two then, had caught up a bit of astick and thrown himself in front of Phillida with such a rush and shoutthat the beast turned and fled, before Roxy and the collies could cometo the rescue. The dogs chased the coyote up the ravine down which hehad come, and he showed himself no more; but Clover was so proud of herboy's prowess that she never forgot the exploit, and it passed into thefamily annals for all time.

  One wonderful stroke of good-luck had befallen the young mothers intheir mountain solitude, and that was the possession of Roxy and hermother Euphane. They were sister and niece to good old Debby, who for somany years had presided over Dr. Carr's kitchen; and when they arrivedone day in Burnet fresh from the Isle of Man, and announced that theyhad come out for good to better their fortunes, Debby had at oncedevoted them to the service of Clover and Elsie. They proved thegreatest possible comfort and help to the High Valley household. Theplace did not seem lonely to them, used as they were to a still loneliercabin at the top of a steep moor up which few people ever came. TheColorado wages seemed riches, the liberal comfortable living luxury tothem, and they rooted and established themselves, just as Debby haddone, into a position of trusted and affectionate helpfulness, whichseemed likely to endure. Euphane was housemaid, Roxy nurse; it alreadyseemed as though life could never have gone on without them, and Cloverwas disposed to emulate Dr. Carr in objecting to "followers," and inresenting any admiring looks cast by herders at Roxy's rosy Englishcheeks and pretty blue eyes.

  Little Geoff ran to his father's knee, as a matter of course, onarriving at the bottom of the stairs, while Phillida climbed hermother's, equally as a matter of course. Safely established there, shebegan at once to flirt with Clarence, making wide coquettish eyes athim, smiling, and hiding her face to peep out and smile again. Heseized one of her dimpled hands and kissed it. She instantly pulled itaway, and hid her face again.

  "Fair Phillida flouts me," he said. "Doesn't baby like papa a bit? Ah,well, he is going to cry, then."

  He buried his face in his napkin and sobbed ostentatiously. Phillida,not at all impressed, tugged bravely at the corner of the handkerchief;but when the sobs continued and grew louder, she began to look troubled,and leaning forward suddenly, threw her arms round her father's neck andlaid her rose-leaf lips on his forehead. He caught her up rapturouslyand tossed her high in air, kissing her every time she came down.

  "You angel! you little angel! you little dear!" he cried, with apositive dew of pleasure in his eyes. "Elsie, what have we ever done todeserve such a darling?"

  "I really don't know what you have done," remarked Elsie, coolly; "but Ihave done a good deal. I always was meritorious in my way, and deservethe best that is going, even Phillida. She is none too good for me. Comeback, baby, to your exemplary parent."

  She rose to recapture the child; but Clarence threw a strong arm abouther, still holding Phillida on his shoulder, and the three went waltzingmerrily down the room, the little one from her perch accenting the dancetime with a series of small shouts. Little Geoff looked up soberly, withhis mouth full of raspberries, and remarked, "Aunty, I didn't ever knowthat people danced at breakfast."

  "No more did I," said Elsie, trying in vain to get away from herpirouetting husband.

  "No more does any one outside this extraordinary valley of ours,"laughed Geoff. "Now, partner, if you have finished your fandango, allowme to remind you that there are a hundred and forty head of cattlewaiting to be branded in the upper valley, and that Manuel is to meet usthere at ten o'clock."

  "And we have the breakfast things to wash, and a whole world to do atthe Youngs'," declared Elsie, releasing herself with a final twirl."Now, Clare dear, order Marigold and Summer-Savory, please, to bebrought down in half an hour, and tell old Jose that we want him to helpand scrub. No, young man, not another turn. These sports are unseemly onsuch a busy day as this. 'Dost thou not suspect my place? dost thou notsuspect my years?' as the immortal W. would say. I am twenty-five,--nearlytwenty-six,--and am not to be whisked about thus."

  Everybody went everywhere on horseback in the High Valley, and thegingham riding-skirts and wide-brimmed hats hung always on the antlers,ready to hand, beside water-proofs and top-coats. Before long thesisters were on their way, their saddle-pockets full of little stores,baskets strapped behind them, and the newly made curtains piled on theirlaps. The distance was about a mile to the house which Lionel Young andhis sister were to inhabit.

  It stood in a charming situation on the slope of one of the sidecanyons, facing the high range and backed by a hillside clothed withpines. In build it was very much such a cabin as the original hut hadbeen,--six rooms, all on one floor, the sixth being a kitchen. It wasnewly completed, and sawdust and fresh shavings were littered freelyabout the place. Clover's first act was to light a fire in the widechimney for burning these up.

  "It looks bare enough," she remarked, sweeping away industriously. "Butit will be quite easy to make it pleasant if Imogen Young has anyfaculty at that sort of thing. I'm sure it's a great deal more promisingthan the Hut was before Clarence and Geoff and I took hold of it. See,Elsie,--this room is done. I think Miss Young will choose it for herbedroom, as it is rather the largest; so you might tack up the dottedcurtains here while I sweep the other rooms. And that convolvulus chintzis to cover her dress-pegs."

  "What fun a house is!" observed Elsie a moment or two later, between herhammer strokes. "People who can get a carpenter or upholsterer to helpthem at any minute really lose a great deal of pleasure. I alwaysadored baby-houses when I was little, and this is the same thing grownup."

  "I don't know," replied Clover, abstractedly, as she threw a lastdustpanful of chips into the fire. "It _is_ good fun, certainly; but outhere one has so much of it that sometimes it comes under the suspicionof being hard work. Now, when Jose has the kitchen windows washed itwill all be pretty decent. We can't undertake much beyond making thefirst day or two more comfortable. Miss Young will prefer to make herown plans and arrangements; and I don't fancy she's the sort of girl whowill enjoy being too much helped."

  "Somehow I don't get quite an agreeable idea of Miss Young from what youand Geoffrey say of her. I do hope she isn't going to make herselfdisagreeable."

  "Oh, I'm sure she won't do that; but there is a wide distance betweennot being disagreeable and being agreeable. I didn't mean to give you anunpleasant impression of her. In fact, my recollections about her arerather indistinct. We didn't see a great deal of her when we were atClovelly, or perhaps it was that Isabel and I were out so much and therewas so much coming and going."

  "But are not she and Isabel very intimate?"

  "I think so; but they are n
ot a bit alike. Isabel is delightful. I wishit were she who was coming out. You would love her. Now, my child, wemust begin on the kitchen tins."

  It was an all-day piece of work which they had undertaken, and they hadordered dinner late accordingly, and provided themselves with a basketof sandwiches. By half-past five all was fairly in order,--the windowswashed, the curtains up, kitchen utensils and china unpacked andarranged, and the somewhat scanty supply of furniture placed to the bestadvantage.

  "There! Robinson Crusoe would consider himself in clover; and even MissYoung can exist for a couple of days, I should think," said Elsie,standing back to note the effect of the last curtain. "Lionel will haveto go in to St. Helen's and get a lot of things out before it will bereally comfortable, though. There come the boys now to ride home withus. No, there is only one horse. Why, it is Phil!"

  Phil indeed it was, but such a different Phil from the delicate boy whomClover had taken out to Colorado six years before. He was now abroad-shouldered, muscular, athletic young fellow, full of life andenergy, and showing no trace of the illness which at that time seemed somenacing. He gave a shout when he caught sight of his sisters, andpushed his broncho to a gallop, waving a handful of envelopes high inair.

  "This despatch came last night for Geoff," he explained, dismounting,"and there were a lot of letters besides, so I thought I'd better bringthem out. I left the newspapers and the rest at the house, and fetchedyour share on. Euphane told me where you two were. So this is where theyoung Youngs are going to live, is it?"

  He stepped in at the door and took a critical survey of the interior,while Clover and Elsie examined their letters.

  "This telegram is for Geoff," explained Clover. "The Youngs are here,"and she read:--

  Safely landed. We reach Denver Thursday morning, six-thirty. LIONEL YOUNG.

  "So they will get here on Thursday afternoon. It's lucky we came upto-day. My letters are from Johnnie and Cecy Slack. Johnnie says--"

  She was interrupted by a joyful shriek from Clover, who had torn openher letter and was eagerly reading it.

  "Oh, Elsie, Elsie, what do you think is going to happen? The mostenchanting thing! Rose Red is coming out here in August! She and Mr.Browne and Roeslein! Was there ever anything so nice in this world! Justhear what she says:"--

  BOSTON, June 30.

  MY DUCKY-DADDLES AND MY DEAR ELSIE GIRL,--I have something so wonderful to tell that I can scarcely find words in which to tell it. A kind Providence _and_ the A. T. and S. F. R. R. have just decided that Deniston must go to New Mexico early in August. This would not have been at all delightful under ordinary circumstances, for it would only have meant perspiration on his part and widowhood on mine, but most fortunately, some angels with a private car of their own have turned up, and have asked all three of us to go out with them as far as Santa Fe. What _do_ you think of that? It is not the Daytons, who seem only to exist to carry you to and fro from Burnet to Colorado free of expense, this time, but another batch of angels who have to do with the road,--name of Hopkinson. I never set eyes on them, but they appear to my imagination equipped with the largest kind of wings, and nimbuses round their heads as big as shade-hats.

  I have always longed to get out somehow to your Enchanted Valley, and see all your mysterious husbands and babies, and find out for myself what the charm is that makes you so wonderfully contented there, so far from West Cedar Street and the other centres of light and culture, but I never supposed I could come unless I walked. But now I _am_ coming! I do hope none of you have the small-pox, or pleuro-pneumonia, or the "foot-and-mouth disease" (whatever that is), or any other of the ills to which men and cattle are subject, and which will stand in the way of the visit. Deniston, of course, will be forced to go right through to Santa Fe, but Roeslein and I are at your service if you like to have us. We don't care for scenery, we don't want to see Mexico or the Pacific coast, or the buried cities of Central America, or the Zuni corn dance,--if there is such a thing,--or any alkaline plains, or pueblos, or buttes, or buffalo wallows; we only want to see you, individually and collectively, and the High Valley. May we come and stay a fortnight? Deniston thinks he shall be gone at least as long as that. We expect to leave Boston on the 31st of July. You will know what time we ought to get to St. Helen's,--I don't, and I don't care, so only we get there and find you at the station. Oh, my dear Clovy, isn't it fun?

  I have seen several of our old school-set lately, Esther Dearborn for one. She is Mrs. Joseph P. Allen now, as you know, and has come to live at Chestnut Hill, quite close by. I had never seen her since her marriage, nearly five years since, till the other day, when she asked me out to lunch, and introduced me to Mr. Joseph P., who seems a very nice man, and also--now don't faint utterly, but you will! to their seven children! He had two of his own when they married, and they have had two pairs of twins since, and "a singleton," as they say in whist. Such a houseful you never did see; but the twins are lovely, and Esther looks very fat and happy and well-to-do, and says she doesn't mind it a bit, and sees more clearly every day that the thing she was born for was to take the charge of a large family. Her Joseph P. is very well off, too. I should judge that they "could have cranberry sauce every day and never feel the difference," which an old cousin of my mother's, whom I dimly remember as a part of my childhood, used to regard as representing the high-water mark of wealth.

  Mary Strothers has been in town lately, too. She has only one child, a little girl, which seems miserably few compared with Esther, but on the other hand she has never been without neuralgia in the face for one moment since she went to live in the Hoosac Tunnel, she told me, so there are compensations. She seems happy for all that, poor dear Mary. Ellen Gray never has married at all, you know. She goes into good works instead, girls' Friendlies and all sorts of usefulnesses. I do admire her so much, she is a standing reproach and example to me. "Wish I were a better boy," as your brother Dorry said in his journal.

  Mother is well and my father, but the house seems empty and lonely now. We can never get used to dear grandmamma's loss, and Sylvia is gone too. She and Tom sailed for Europe in April, and it makes a great difference having them away, even for a summer. My brother-in-law is such a nice fellow, I hope you will know him some day.

  And all this time I have forgotten to tell you the chief news of all, which is that I have seen Katy. Deniston and I spent Sunday before last with her at the Torpedo station. She has a cosey, funny little house, one of a row of five or six, built on the spine, so to speak, of a narrow, steep island, with a beautiful view of Newport just across the water. It was a superb day, all shimmery blue and gold, and we spent most of our time sitting in a shady corner of the piazza, and talking of the old times and of all of you. I didn't know then of this enchanting Western plan, or we should have had a great deal more to talk about. The dear Katy looks very well and handsome, and was perfectly dear, as she always is, and she says the Newport climate suits her to perfection. Your brother-in-law is a stunner! I asked Katy if she wasn't going out to see you soon, and she
said not till Ned went to sea next spring, then she should go for a long visit.

  Write at once if we may come. I won't begin on the subject of Roeslein, whom you will never know, she has grown so. She goes about saying rapturously, "I shall see little Geoff! I shall see Phillida! I shall see Aunt Clovy! Perhaps I shall ride on a horse!" You'll never have the heart to disappoint her. My "milk teeth are chattering with fright" at the idea of so much railroad, as one of her books says, but for all that we are coming, if you let us. Do let us!

  YOUR OWN ROSE RED.

  "Let them! I should think so," cried Clover, with a little skip ofrapture. "Dear, dear Rose! Elsie, the nicest sort of things do happenout here, don't they?"