comfortable. Mrs. Hope has been there before, and she's an old friend."

"Oh, I dare say! There are always reasons. I don't say that I should have
felt like going, but he ought to have asked me. Ellen will be surprised,
and so will--He's from Ashburn too, and he must know the Parmenters, and
Mrs. Parmenter's brother's son is partner to Henry's brother-in-law. It's
of no consequence, of course,--still, respect--older people--Boston--not
used to--Phillips--" Mrs. Watson's voice died away into fragmentary and
inaudible lamentings.

Clover attempted no further excuse. Her good sense told her that she had a
perfect right to accept this little pleasure; that Mrs. Watson's plans for
Western travel had been formed quite independently of their own, and that
papa would not wish her to sacrifice herself and Phil to such unreasonable
humors. Still, it was not pleasant; and I am sorry to say that from this
time dated a change of feeling on Mrs. Watson's part toward her "young
friends." She took up a chronic position of grievance toward them,
confided her wrongs to all new-comers, and met Clover with an offended air
which, though Clover ignored it, did not add to the happiness of her life
at Mrs. Marsh's.

It was early in the afternoon when they started, and the sun was just
dipping behind the mountain wall when they drove into the High Valley. It
was one of those natural parks, four miles long, which lie like
heaven-planted gardens among the Colorado ranges. The richest of grass
clothed it; fine trees grew in clumps and clusters here and there; and the
spaces about the house where fences of barbed wire defended the grass from
the cattle, seemed a carpet of wild-flowers.

Clover exclaimed with delight at the view. The ranges which lapped and