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Page 46
Dr. Hope left at noon, after making a second visit to the lame herder, and
Mrs. Hope and Clover settled themselves for a week of enjoyment. They were
alone for hours every day, while their young hosts were off on the ranch,
and they devoted part of this time to various useful and decorative arts.
They took all manner of liberties, poked about and rummaged, mended,
sponged, assorted, and felt themselves completely mistresses of the
situation. A note to Marian Chase brought up a big parcel by stage to the
Ute Valley, four miles away, from which it was fetched over by a cow-boy
on horseback; and Clover worked away busily at scrim curtains for the
windows, while Mrs. Hope shaped a slip cover of gay chintz for the
shabbiest of the armchairs, hemmed a great square of gold-colored canton
flannel for the bare, unsightly table, and made a bright red pincushion
apiece for the bachelor quarters. The sitting-room took on quite a new
aspect, and every added touch gave immense satisfaction to "the boys," as
Mrs. Hope called them, who thoroughly enjoyed the effect of these
ministrations, though they had not the least idea how to produce it
themselves.
Creature comforts were not forgotten. The two ladies amused themselves
with experiments in cookery. The herders brought a basket of wild
raspberries, and Clover turned them into jam for winter use. Clarence
gloated over the little white pots, and was never tired of counting them.
They looked so like New England, he declared, that he felt as if he must
get a girl at once, and go and walk in the graveyard,--a pastime which he
remembered as universal in his native town. Various cakes and puddings
appeared to attest the industry of the housekeepers; and on the only wet
evening, when a wild thunder-gust was sweeping down the valley, they had a
wonderful candy-pull, and made enough to give all the cow-boys a treat.
It must not be supposed that all their time went in these domestic
pursuits. No, indeed. Mrs. Hope had brought her own side-saddle, and had
borrowed one for Clover; the place was full of horses, and not a day
passed without a long ride up or down the valley, and into the charming
little side canyons which opened from it. A spirited broncho, named
Sorrel, had been made over to Phil's use for the time of his stay, and he
was never out of the saddle when he could help it, except to eat and
sleep. He shared in the herders' wild gallops after stock, and though
Clover felt nervous about the risks he ran, whenever she took time to
think them over, he was so very happy that she had not the heart to
interfere or check his pleasure.
She and Mrs. Hope rode out with the gentlemen on the great day of the
round-up, and, stationed at a safe point a little way up the hillside,
watched the spectacle,--the plunging, excited herd, the cow-boys madly
galloping, swinging their long whips and lassos, darting to and fro to
head off refractory beasts or check the tendency to stampede. Both
Clarence and Geoffrey Templestowe were bold and expert riders; but the
Mexican and Texan herders in their employ far surpassed them. The ladies
had never seen anything like it. Phil and his broncho were in the midst of
things, of course, and had one or two tumbles, but nothing to hurt them;
only Clover was very thankful when it was all safely over.
In their rides and scrambling walks it generally happened that Clarence
took possession of Clover, and left Geoff in charge of Mrs. Hope.
Cousinship and old friendship gave him a right, he considered, and he
certainly took full advantage of it. Clover liked Clarence; but there were
moments when she felt that she would rather enjoy the chance to talk more
with Mr. Templestowe, and there was a look in his eyes now and then which
seemed to say that he might enjoy it too. But Clarence did not observe
this look, and he had no idea of sharing his favorite cousin with any one,
if he could help it.
Sunday brought the explanation of the shelf full of prayer-books which had
puzzled them on their first arrival. There was no church within reach; and
it was Geoff's regular custom, it seemed, to hold a little service for the
men in the valley. Almost all of them came, except the few Mexicans, who
were Roman Catholics, and the room was quite full. Geoff read the service
well and reverently, gave out the hymns, and played the accompaniments for
them, closing with a brief bit of a sermon by the elder Arnold. It was all
done simply and as a matter of course, and Clarence seemed to join in it
with much good-will; but Clover privately wondered whether the idea of
doing such a thing would have entered into his head had he been left
alone, or, if so, whether he would have cared enough about it to carry it
out regularly. She doubted. Whatever the shortcomings of the Church of
England may be, she certainly trains her children into a devout observance
of Sunday.
The next day, Monday, was to be their last,--a fact lamented by every one,
particularly Phil, who regarded the High Valley as a paradise, and would
gladly have remained there for the rest of his natural life. Clover hated
to take him away; but Dr. Hope had warned her privately that a week would
be enough of it, and that with Phil's tendency to overdo, too long a stay
would be undesirable. So she stood firm, though Clarence urged a delay,
and Phil seconded the proposal with all his might.
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