herself against unknown things.
Lark’s meditations were interrupted by a knock on her door. “Come—in,” she faltered, wiping her eyes.
Marigold entered. She had changed her dress. Lark almost gasped. Marigold was a tall, perfect blonde, and the tight-fitting bodice of the full-skirted gown displayed her beautiful figure.
“May I come in and talk to you?” asked Marigold sweetly. She had light-blue languid eyes.
“I’d be glad to have you,” replied Lark.
Whereupon her cousin sat down beside her. “I like this seat,” she said. “It used to be mine—this room—before Dad fixed up the house. . . . Well let’s get acquainted.”
“I’ll do my best,” replied Lark, smiling. Marigold seemed friendly and kind. “First off, cousin, I’d like to know what’s expected of me.”
“Heavens! Nothing, except to make yourself at home.”
“But I’ll want some work.”
“You might help Mother. And take care of your room. Lark, can you sew?”
“Yes, indeed.”
“How’re you fixed for clothes?”
“I’ve none to speak of, except this dress,” returned Lark simply.
“You poor kid. Well, that’s not much, old and faded. I’ve a lot of dresses I’ll give you to make over, if you’ll have them. And you’ll need something new, too.”
“You’re very good, Marigold.”
“We’ll drive to town soon,” said Marigold brightly. “You can buy some goods. Lark, what’ve you been used to down there in Idaho?”
“Ranch life. Work. Horses. Cattle.”
“Any cowboys?”
“No. I have an old man who has been with us for years taking care of the place.”
“Far from any town?”
“Yes. All-day ride for a horse.”
“Any social life?”
“Not much. No neighbors. I’ve been to a few dances and weddings, christenings and such.”
“Of course your town has a meeting house for dancing?”
“No. We used the schoolhouse. I have books too, but no late ones. We’ve been poor since my father died.”
“Have you had fellows—beaux, I mean?”
“Sometimes, on Sundays. And not of my choice,” rejoined Lark demurely.
“You’ve been really isolated. Lark, do you know you’re not bad looking?”
“I hope I’m not.”
“I’ll bet when you’re dressed you’ll be a knockout. You’ll need to change your hair—put it up.”
“Cousin, my hair’s unruly—and it’s not very long anyhow.”
“I see. It isn’t so long at that. You can make it do. You’ve lovely hair, Lark. I adore that ripple. And such a soft silky brown with red glints . . . El said you were good looking.”
“Who’s El?”
“My brother, Ellery. He’s no good on earth. Only son, you know. Spoiled. Don’t let him bother you, Lark. He imagines he’s a devil with the women. But he’s no good. We don’t get along. Look out for El. He’ll be after you, and I feel responsible for you, Lark. When Dad told us about you, and your situation down there, I persuaded him to send for you. You’ll be a fleecy little lamb among wolves, I fear. But I don’t want my brother to frighten you.”
“Thank you, Marigold. But I can take care of myself,” replied Lark with spirit, now that she thought she understood.
“Let me give you a hint about the rest of our family,” went on Marigold. “Dad and Mom are blind about El. They think the sun rises and sets on him. They just can’t see him as he is. So if he does get infatuated with you, it’s not going to be easy. No girl is good enough for El, according to Mom. And Dad wants him settled. Dad has a big merchandise store in town. El hangs out there, where he’s supposed to work. But outside of him, Dad and Mom are regular human beings, almost. Mom is easygoing, but Dad lets out a yell occasionally about money. That is when he’s short of it. He sold a trainload of cattle lately and he’s flush. So it’ll be a good time for me to talk to him about going to town to shop. Let’s go down and ask him right now.”
Lark, thrilled and excited, though somewhat surprised at her cousin’s point of view, tripped after Marigold downstairs. Mr. Wade was smoking in a chair, before a fire smoldering in the open grate. He was a well-preserved man, not much over fifty, with keen blue eyes and a tawny beard sprinkled with gray. It was plain where Marigold got her handsome features.
“Looks like a drive to me,” he remarked quizzically, laying aside his paper. “Evidently you girls have got acquainted already.”
“Give us time, Dad,” replied Marigold. “Lark is not so easy to get acquainted with. She’s lived pretty much alone down there on that ranch. I’d like to take her to town. She hasn’t any clothes, naturally. May we go?”
“Reckon it’s half a dozen for Lark an’ six for you, eh?” he asked, laughing. “Sure you can go. Come here, Lark.”
He appeared kindly and sympathetic, and as she stepped to his chair he took her hand and looked up with thoughtful, penetrating eyes. “Your father an’ I were in the cattle business once, years ago, before you were born. He liked the unfenced ranges an’ I leaned toward the settlements. I saw your mother once, just after her marriage. She was a dusky-eyed beauty. Indian blood, wasn’t it?”
“My grandma was part Nez Percé, so Father used to say,” replied Lark shyly.
“You favor your mother. Well, someday you must tell me all about yourself an’ that ranch down in Idaho. You must try to fit in here an’ make it home. I reckon it won’t be easy at first.”
“I’d like to work, Mr. Wade. Couldn’t you give me work in your store?”
“Well!” Mr. Wade looked surprised. “It’s not a bad idea—if Mother an’ Mari—”
“Mom wouldn’t hear of it,” interrupted Marigold.
“Daughter, there’s nothin’ like work an’ independence,” returned her father mildly. “Perhaps your cousin has been used to work. How about it, Lark?”
“I’m afraid I have,” said Lark frankly, and she held out her hands. They were shapely, brown hands, but on the inside they were callused.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Marigold.
“I see. Those hands haven’t been idle,” rejoined Mr. Wade, and Lark imagined his tone had added respect to
