over the handsomely carpeted floor. "Haven't seen anything so
inviting as this. How long have you been open?"

"Only a few months," answered the gratified landlord. "But we are
not yet in good going order. It takes time, you know, to bring
everything into the right shape. Have you dined yet?"

"No. Everything looked so dirty at the stage-house, where we
stopped to get dinner, that I couldn't venture upon the experiment
of eating. How long before your supper will be ready?"

"In an hour," replied the landlord.

"That will do. Let me have a nice piece of tender steak, and the
loss of dinner will soon be forgotten."

"You shall have that, cooked fit for an alderman," said the
landlord. "I call my wife the best cook in Cedarville."

As he spoke, a neatly dressed girl, about sixteen years of age,
with rather an attractive countenance, passed through the room.

"My daughter," said the landlord, as she vanished through the
door. There was a sparkle of pride in the father's eyes, and a
certain tenderness in the tones of his voice, as he said "My
daughter" that told me she was very dear to him.

"You are a happy man to have so fair a child," said I, speaking
more in compliment than with a careful choice of words.