to love it best of all, and lies longer on it than on the other peaks.

Clover did not analyze her impressions, but she fell in love with it at
first sight, and loved it better and better all the time that she stayed
at St. Helen's. "Dr. Hope and Mount Cheyenne were our first friends in the
place," she used to say in after-days.

"How nice it is to be by ourselves!" said Phil, as he lay comfortably on
the sofa watching Clover unpack. "I get so tired of being all the time
with people. Dear me! the room looks quite homelike already."

Clover had spread a pretty towel over the bare table, laid some books and
her writing-case upon it, and was now pinning up a photograph over the
mantel-piece.

"We'll make it nice by-and-by," she said cheerfully; "and now that I've
tidied up a little, I think I'll go and see what has become of Mrs.
Watson. She'll think I have quite forgotten her. You'll lie quiet and rest
till dinner, won't you?"

"Yes," said Phil, who looked very sleepy; "I'm all right for an hour to
come. Don't hurry back if the ancient female wants you."

Clover spread a shawl over him before she went and shut one of the
windows.


[Illustration: "Clover spread a shawl over him before she left, and shut
one of the windows."]