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