In the High Valley

by Susan Coolidge

  CHAPTER V.

  ARRIVAL.

  THE train from Denver was nearing St. Helen's,--and Imogen Young lookedeagerly from the window for a first sight of the place. Their journeyhad been exhaustingly hot during its last stages, the alkaline dust mosttrying, and they had had a brief experience of a sand-storm on theplains, which gave her a new idea as to what wind and grit canaccomplish in the way of discomfort. She was very tired, and quitedisposed to be critical and unenthusiastic; still she had been compelledto admit that the run down from Denver lay over an interesting country.

  The town on its plateau was shining in full sunshine, as it had donewhen Clover landed there six years before, but its outlines had greatlychanged with the increase of buildings. The mountain range opposite wasdarkly blue from the shadows of a heavy thunder gust which was slowlyrolling away southward. The plains between were of tawny yellow, but thebelts of mesa above showed the richest green, except where the lines ofalfalfa and grain were broken by white patches of mentzelia and poppies.It was wonderfully beautiful, but the town itself looked so much largerthan Imogen had expected that she exclaimed with surprise:--

  "Why, Lion, it's a city! You said you were bringing me out to live inthe wilderness. What made you tell such stories? It looks bigger thanBideford."

  "It looks larger than it did when I came away," replied her brother."Two, three, six,--eight fine new houses on Monument Avenue, by Jove,and any number off there toward the north. You've no idea how theseWestern places sprout and thrive, Moggy. This isn't twenty years oldyet."

  "I can't believe it. You are imposing on me. And why on earth did youlet me bring out all those pins and things? There seem to be any numberof shops."

  "I let you! Oh, I say, that is good! Why, Moggy, don't you remember howI remonstrated straight through your packing. Never a bit would youlisten to me, and here is the result," pulling out a baggage memorandumas he spoke, and reading aloud in a lugubrious tone, "Extra weight oftrunks, thirteen dollars, fifty-two cents."

  "Thirteen fifty," cried Imogen with a gasp. "My gracious! why, that'snearly three pounds! Lion! Lion! you ought to have _made_ me listen."

  "I'm sure I did all I could in that way. But cheer up! You'll want yourpins yet. You mustn't confound this place with High Valley. That'ssixteen miles off and hasn't a shop."

  The discussion was brought to end by the stopping of the train. Inanother moment Geoff Templestowe appeared at the door.

  "Hallo, Lion! glad to see you. Imogen," shaking hands warmly, "how areyou? Welcome to Colorado. I'm afraid you've had a bad journey in thisheat."

  "It _has_ been beastly. Poor Moggy's dead beat, I'm afraid. Neither ofus could sleep a wink last night for the dust and sand. Well, it's allwell that ends well. We'll cool her off in the valley. How is everythinggoing on there? Mrs. Templestowe all right, and Mrs. Page, and thechildren? I declare," stretching himself, "it's a blessing to get abreath of good air again. There's nothing in the world that can comparewith Colorado."

  A light carryall was waiting near the station, whose top was little morethan a fringed awning. Into this Geoffrey helped Imogen, and proceededto settle her wraps and bags in various seat boxes and pockets withwhich the carriage was cleverly fitted up. It was truly a carry-all andcame and went continually between the valley and St. Helen's.

  "Now," he remarked as he stuffed in the last parcel, "we will just stoplong enough to get the mail and some iced tea, which I ordered as Icame down, and then be off. You'll find a cold chicken in that basket,Lion. Clover was sure you'd need something, and there's no time for aregular meal if we are to get in before dark."

  "Iced tea! what a queer idea!" said Imogen.

  "I forgot that you were not used to it. We drink it a great deal here insummer. Would you rather have some hot? I didn't fancy that you wouldcare for it, the day is so warm; but we'll wait and have it made, if youprefer."

  "Oh, no. I won't delay you," said Imogen, rather grudgingly. She wasdisposed to resent the iced tea as an American innovation, but when shetried it she found herself, to her own surprise, liking it very much."Only, why do they call it tea," she meditated. "It's a great deal morelike punch--all lemon and things." But she had to own that it waswonderfully refreshing.

  The sun was blazing on the plain; but after they began to wind up thepass a cool, strong wind blew in their faces and the day seemed suddenlydelightful. The unfamiliar flowers and shrubs, the strange rock formsand colors, the occasional mountain glimpses, interested Imogen so muchthat for a time she forgot her fatigue. Then an irresistible drowsinessseized her; the talk going on between Geoffrey Templestowe and herbrother, about cows and feed and the prospect of the autumn sales,became an indistinguishable hum, and she went off into a series ofsleeps broken by brief wakings, when the carryall bumped, or swayedheavily from side to side on the steep inclines. From one of thesoundest of these naps she was roused by her brother shaking her arm andcalling,--

  "Moggy, wake, wake up! We are here."

  With a sharp thump of heart-beat she started into full consciousness tofind the horses drawing up before a deep vine-hung porch, on which stooda group of figures which seemed to her confused senses a large party.There was Elsie in a fresh white dress with pale green ribbons,Clarence Page, Phil Carr, little Philippa in her nurse's arms, smallGeoff with his two collies at his side, and foremost of all, ready tohelp her down, hospitable little Clover, in lilac muslin, with a rose inher belt and a face of welcome.

  "How the Americans do love dress!" was Imogen's instant thought,--anungracious one, and quite unwarranted by the circumstances. Clover andElsie kept themselves neat and pretty from habit and instinct, but themuslin gowns were neither new nor fashionable, they had only the meritof being fresh and becoming to their wearers.

  "You poor child, how tired you must be!" cried Clover, as she assistedImogen out of the carriage. "This is my sister, Mrs. Page. Please takeher directly to her room, Elsie, while I order up some hot water. She'llbe glad of that first of all. Lion, I won't take time to welcome younow. The boys must care for you while I see after your sister."

  A big sponging-bath full of fresh water stood ready in the room towhich Imogen was conducted; the white bed was invitingly "turned down;"there were fresh flowers on the dressing-table, and a heap of softcushions on a roomy divan which filled the deep recess of a range of lowwindows. The gay-flowered paper on the walls ran up to the peak of theceiling, giving a tent-like effect. Most of the furnishings werehome-made. The divan was nothing more or less than a big packing-boxnicely stuffed and upholstered; the dressing-table, a construction ofpine boards covered and frilled with cretonne. Clover had plaited thechintz round the looking-glass and on the edges of the book-shelves,while the picture-frames, the corner-brackets, and the impromptuwashstand owed their existence to Geoff's cleverness with tools. But thewhole effect was pretty and tasteful, and Imogen, as she went on withher dressing, looked about her with a somewhat reluctant admiration,which was slightly tinctured with dismay.

  "I suppose they got all these things out from the East," she reflected."I couldn't undertake them in our little cabin, I'm sure. It's verynice, and really in very good taste, but it must have cost a great deal.The Americans don't think of _that_, however; and I've always heard theyhave a great knack at doing up their houses and making a good show."

  "Go straight to bed if you feel like it. Don't think of coming down. Wewill send you up some dinner," Clover had urged; but Imogen, tired asshe was, elected to go down.

  "I really mustn't give in to a little fatigue," she thought. "I have thehonor of England to sustain over here." So she heroically put on herheavy tweed travelling-dress again, and descended the stairs, to find abright little fire of pine-wood and cones snapping and blazing on thehearth, and the whole party gathered about it, waiting for her anddinner.

  "What an extraordinary climate!" she exclaimed in a tone ofastonishment. "Melting with heat at three, and here at a quarter pastseven you are sitting round a fire! It really feels comfortable, too!" />
  "The changes _are_ very sharp," said Geoff, rising to give her hischair. "Such a daily drop in temperature would make a sensation in ourgood old Devonshire, would it not? You see it comes from the highelevation. We are nearly eight thousand feet above the sea-level here;that is about twice as high as the top of the highest mountain in theUnited Kingdom."

  "Fancy! I had no idea of it. Lionel did say something about theelevation, but I didn't clearly attend." She glanced about the room,which was looking its best, with the pink light of the shaded candlesfalling on the white-spread table, and the flickering fire making goldenglows and gleams on the ceiling. "How _did_ you get all these prettythings out here?" she suddenly demanded.

  "Some came in wagons, and some just 'growed,'" explained Clover,merrily. "We will let you into our secrets gradually. Ah, here comesdinner at last, and I am sure we shall all be glad of it."

  Choo Loo now entered with the soup-tureen, a startling vision to Imogen,who had never seen a Chinaman before in her life.

  "How very extraordinary!" she murmured in an aside to Lionel. "He lookslike an absolute heathen. Are such things usual here?"

  "Very usual, I should say. Lots of them about. That fellow has a Joss inhis cabin, and very likely a prayer-wheel; but he's a capital cook. Iwish we could have the luck to happen on his brother or nephew forourselves."

  "I don't, then," replied his scandalized sister. "I can't feel that itis right to employ such people in a Christian country. The Americanshave such lax notions!"

  "Hold up a bit! What do you know about their notions? Nothing at all."

  "Come to dinner," said Clover's pleasant voice. "Geoff, Miss Young willsit next to you. Put a cushion behind her back, Clarence."

  Dinner over, Imogen concluded that she had upheld the honor of Englandquite as long as was desirable, or in fact possible, and gladly acceptedpermission to go at once to bed. She was fairly tired out.

  She woke wonderfully restored by nine hours' solid sleep in that elasticand life-giving atmosphere, and went downstairs to find every onescattered to their different tasks and avocations, except Elsie, who waswaiting to pour her coffee. Clover and Lionel were gone to the newhouse, she explained, and they were to follow them as soon as Imogen hadbreakfasted.

  Elsie's manner lacked its usual warmth and ease. She had taken no fancyat all to the stiff, awkward little English woman, in whom her quickwits detected the lurking tendency to cavil and criticise, and wasdiscouraging accordingly. Oddly enough, Imogen liked this offish mannerof Elsie's. She set it down to a proper sense of decorum and _retenue_."So different from the usual American gush and making believe to be atease always with everybody," she thought; and she made herself asagreeable as possible to Elsie, whom she considered much prettier thanClover, and in every way more desirable. These impressions weredoubtless tinctured by the underlying jealousy from which she had solong suffered, and which still influenced her, though Isabel Templestowewas now far away, and there was no one at hand to be jealous about.

  The two rode amicably up the valley together.

  "There, that's your new home," said Elsie, when they came in sight ofthe just finished cabin. "Didn't Lionel choose a pretty site for it? Andyou have a most beautiful view."

  "Well, Moggy," cried her brother, hurrying out to help her dismount,"here you are at last. Mrs. Templestowe and I have made you a fire anddone all sorts of things. How do you like the look of it? It's a decentlittle place, isn't it? We must get Mrs. Templestowe to put us up tosome of her nice little dodges about furniture and so on, such as theyhave at the other house. She and Mrs. Page have made it all tidy for us,and put up lots of nice little curtains and things. They must haveworked awfully hard, too. Wasn't it good of them?"

  "Very," said Imogen, rather stiffly. "I'm sure we're much obliged toyou, Mrs. Templestowe. I fear you have given yourself a great deal oftrouble."

  The words were polite enough, but the tone was distinctly repellent.

  "Oh, no," said Clover, lightly. "It was only fun to come up and arrangea little beforehand. We were very glad to do it. Now, Elsie, you and Iwill ride down, and leave these new housekeepers to discuss their plansin peace. Dinner at six to-night, Lionel; and please send old Jose downif you need anything. Don't stay too long or get too tired, Miss Young.We shall have lunch about one; but if you are doing anything and don'twant to leave so early, you'll find some sardines and jam and a tin ofbiscuits in that cupboard by the fire."

  She and Elsie rode away accordingly. When they were out of hearing,Clover remarked,--

  "I wonder why that girl dislikes me so."

  "Dislikes you! Clover, what do you mean? Nobody ever disliked you inyour life, or ever could."

  "Yes, she does," persisted Clover. "She has got some sort of queer twistin her mind regarding me, and I can't think what it is. It doesn'treally matter, and very likely she'll get over it presently; but I'msorry about it. It would be so pleasant all to be good friends togetherup here, where there are so few of us."

  Her tone was a little pathetic. Clover was used to being liked.

  "Little wretch!" cried Elsie, with flashing eyes. "If I really thoughtthat she dared not to like you, I'd--I'd--, well, what would Ido?--import a grisly bear to eat her, or some such thing! I suppose anIndian could be found who for a consideration would undertake to scalpMiss Imogen Young, and if she doesn't behave herself he _shall_ befound. But you're all mistaken, Clovy; you must be. She's only stiff anddull and horribly English, and very tired after her journey. She'll beall right in a day or two. If she isn't, I shall 'go for' her withoutmercy."

  "Well, perhaps it is that." It was easier and pleasanter to imagineImogen tired than to admit that she was absolutely unfriendly.

  "After all," she added, "it's for Miss Young's sake that I should regretit if it were so, much more than for my own. I have Geoff and you andClare,--and papa and Johnnie coming, and dear Rose Red,--all of you areat my back; but she, poor thing, has no one but Lionel to stand up forher. I am on my own ground," drawing up her figure with a prettymovement of pride, "and she is a stranger in a strange land. So we won'tmind if she is stiff, Elsie dear, and just be as nice as we can be toher, for it must be horrid to be so far away from home and one's ownpeople. We cannot be too patient and considerate under suchcircumstances."

  Meanwhile the moment they were out of sight Lionel had turned upon hissister sharply, and angrily.

  "Moggy, what on earth do you mean by speaking so to Mrs. Templestowe?"

  "Speaking how? What did I say?" retorted Imogen.

  "You didn't _say_ anything out of the common, but your manner was mostdisagreeable. If she hadn't been the best-tempered woman in the worldshe would have resented it on the spot. Here she, and all of them, havebeen doing all they can to make ready for us, giving us such a warmwelcome too, treating us as if we were their own kith and kin, and youreturn it by putting on airs as if she were intruding and interfering inour affairs. I never was so ashamed of a member of my own family beforein my life."

  "I can't imagine what you mean," protested Imogen, not quite truthfully."And you've no call to speak to me so, Lionel, and tell me I am rude,just because I don't gush and go about making cordial speeches likethese Americans of yours. I'm sure I said everything that was proper toMrs. Templestowe."

  "Your words were proper enough, but your manner was eminently improper.Now, Moggy," changing his tone, "listen to me. Let us look the thingsquarely in the face. You've come out here with me, and it's awfullygood of you and I sha'n't ever forget it; but here we are, settled foryears to come in this little valley, with the Templestowes and Pages forour only neighbors. They can be excellent friends, as I've found, andthey are prepared to be equally friendly to you; but if you're going tostart with a little grudge against Mrs. Geoff,--who's the best littlewoman going, by Jove, and the kindest,--you'll set the whole familyagainst us, and we might as well pack up our traps at once and go backto England. Now I put it to you reasonably; is it worth while to upsetall our plans and all my hopes,--and for
what? Mrs. Templestowe can'thave done anything to set you against her?"

  "Lion," cried Imogen, bursting into tears, "don't! I'm sure I didn'tmean to be rude. Mrs. Geoff never did anything to displease me, andcertainly I haven't a grudge against her. But I'm very tired, so pleasedon't s-c-o-ld me; I've got no one out here but you."

  Lionel melted at once. He had never seen his sister cry before, and feltthat he must have been harsh and unkind.

  "I'm a brute," he exclaimed. "There, Moggy, there, dear--don't cry. Ofcourse you're tired; I ought to have thought of it before."

  He petted and consoled her, and Imogen, who was really spent and weary,found the process so agreeable that she prolonged her tears a little. Atlast she suffered herself to be comforted, dried her eyes, grewcheerful, and the two proceeded to make an investigation of thepremises, deciding what should go there and what here, and what it wasrequisite to get from St. Helen's. Imogen had to own that the ladies ofthe Valley had been both thoughtful and helpful.

  "I'll thank them again this evening and do it better," she said; andLionel patted her back, and told her she really was quite a little brickwhen she wasn't a big goose,--a brotherly compliment which was moregratifying than it sounded.

  It was decided that he should go into St. Helen's next day to order outstores and what Lionel called "a few sticks" that were essential, andprocure a servant.

  "Then we can move in the next day," said Imogen. "I feel in such a hurryto begin house-keeping, Lionel, you can't think. One is always astranger in the land till one has a place of one's own. Geoff and hiswife are very kind and polite, but it's much better we should start forourselves as soon as possible. Besides, there are other people coming tostay; Mrs. Page said so."

  "Yes, but not for quite a bit yet, I fancy. All the same, you are right,Moggy; and we'll set up our own shebang as soon as it can be managed.You'll feel twice as much at home when you have a house of your own.I'll get the mattresses and tables and chairs out by Saturday, andfetch the slavey out with me if I can find one."

  "No Chinese need apply," said Imogen. "Get me a Christian servant,whatever you do, Lion. I can't bear that creature with the pig-tail."

  "I'll do my possible," said her brother, in a doubtful tone; "but you'llcome to pig-tails yet and be thankful for them, or I miss my guess."

  "Never!"

  Imogen remembered her promise. She was studiously polite and gratefulthat evening, and exerted herself to talk and undo the unpleasantimpression of the morning. The little party round the dinner-table waxedmerry, especially when Imogen, under the effect of her graciousresolves, attempted to adapt her conversation to her company and gratifyher hosts by using American expressions.

  "People absquatulate from St. Helen's toward autumn, don't they?" sheremarked. Then when some one laughed she added, "You say 'absquatulate'over here, don't you?"

  "Well, I don't know. I never did hear any one say it except as a joke,"replied Elsie.

  And again: "Mother would be astonished, Lion, wouldn't she, if she knewthat a Chinese can make English puddings as well as the cooks at home.She'd be all struck of a heap."

  And later: "It really was dreadful. The train was broken all to bits,and nearly every one on board was hurt,--catawampously chawed up infact, as you Americans would say. Why, what are you all laughing at?Don't you say it?"

  "Never, except in the comic newspapers and dime novels," said GeoffreyTemplestowe when he recovered from his amusement, while Lionel, utterlyovercome with his sister's vocabulary, choked and strangled, and finallyfound voice to say,--

  "Go on, Moggy. You're doing beautifully. Nothing like acquiring thenative dialect to make a favorable impression in a new country. Oh,wherever _did_ she learn 'catawampus'? I shall die of it."