"And Cynthia? Is Cynthia at home?" Westover asked.

"Yes; they're all down in the little wood-colored house yet. Cynthia
teaches winters, and summers she helps mother. She has charge of the
dining-room."

"Does Franky cry as much as ever?"

"No, Frank's a fine boy. He's in the house, too. Kind of bell-boy."

"And you haven't worked Mr. Whitwell in anywhere?"

"Well, he talks to the ladies, and takes parties of 'em
mountain-climbing. I guess we couldn't get along without Mr. Whitwell. He
talks religion to 'em." He cast a mocking glance at Westover over his
shoulder. "Women seem to like religion, whether they belong to church or
not."

Westover laughed and asked: "And Fox? How's Fox?"

"Well," said Jeff, "we had to give Fox away. He was always cross with the
boarders' children. My brother was on from Colorado, and he took Fox back
with him."

"I didn't suppose," said Westover, "that I should have been sorry to miss
Fox. But I guess I shall be."

Jeff seemed to enjoy the implication of his words. "He wasn't a bad dog.
He was stupid."