As the four girls came around the corner of the ranch-house Sary banged a plate of hot biscuits upon the table. Some of the biscuits bounced off and rolled across the snowy cloth, so Sary made a swift lunge to catch them before they fell upon the ground.

Without hesitation, she replaced the biscuits on the plate and glared at the boarders as she mumbled to herself: "Sech high-filutin' a'rs Ah never did see afore!"

The strangers looked at each other, wondering what the maid's perturbed manner portended. But Sary flounced back to the kitchen sending an angry glance over her shoulder before she entered that sacred precinct. She quickly returned with a glass dish of pear preserves and another dish of home-pickled peaches. These were so placed as to flank the biscuits when Sary spied an inquisitive hornet about to settle upon the preserves.

"Git out o' that!" shrilled she, whacking at the insect with her kitchen towel.

The hornet resented the vicious slap and flew straight for Sary's red head. She unceremoniously ducked and ran. But the insect buzzed after her with evil intent, so Sary ran for her sanctuary, slamming the screen door safely between herself and her pursuer. The audience watching beside the table laughed merrily at the rout.

At the sudden entrance of the maid into the kitchen, Mrs. Brewster asked, without looking up: "Did you place the butter and milk on the table, Sary?"

"It are!" from Sary, curtly.

Mrs. Brewster looked up in surprise. She saw Sary on the safe side of the screen-door glaring at the hornet, which was crawling slowly towards the crack in the opening, while buzzing threateningly, now and then.

"There's a hornet, Sary—better drive it away before you venture out again."

"Ah are."

"Take the kettle and dash some boiling water on it. It sounds angry enough to sting."

"It am," flared Sary, as if her anger, too, was vicious enough to do as the hornet would. But she turned to get the hot water and when she returned to deluge the plague, lo! it was there no more.

"Sary, what's wrong with you since this morning? You've not been civil in any way," said Mrs. Brewster, impatiently.

"Wrong e'nuff! Jeb an' m'sef havin' t' eat meals all alone in a big kitchen that's fine e'nuff fer any one. But these fool gals is so high an' mighty they hez t' nibble at a table under the trees!" Sary's lofty scorn was only equaled by her majestic pose, as she delivered her sentence.

"You're wrong, Sary, we do not nibble at the table—we leave that for the field-mice," corrected Mrs. Brewster, sweetly.

Sary vented an explosive "Humph!" and grabbed the meat-platter. As she left the kitchen, she sent an insulted glance at her mistress, but the recent correction in speech made her forget the hornet. The watchful insect had been sitting directly over the door, and now eagerly resumed its drive on the enemy.

Despite her resolve to be dignified and scornful, Sary had to take flight before the group seated about the table. The girls laughed. One of the maid's loose shoes flew off during the race around the table and the hornet would have conquered her had not Mr. Brewster risen to the occasion and downed the insect with his newspaper. His heavy boot finished the career of the "Hun-net" and Sary went back to the house, picking up her shoe as she passed its resting place.

Once more in the kitchen, she returned to the argument. "Ef it warn't that you-all hed this comp'ny an' would be worn out in no time, alone, Ah'd pack an' git, this day!" But in her heart the widow knew horses could not drag her from such luxury as she had only recently enjoyed. Besides, there was Jeb; he offered future possibilities of curtailing her widowhood.

While Sary delivered her opinion, Mrs. Brewster finished creaming the potatoes and now dished them up. As she started for the screen-door, she turned to the maid and said:

"Either you have a severe attack of indigestion coming on, Sary, or you are falling in love again. Both diseases present similar symptoms in their first stages."

"Mis' Brewster!"

But the mistress refused to look back even though the temptation to see
Sary's face was great!

"Oh, Mis' Brewster! How kin you-all say that—so soon after Bill's funeral, an' the expenses not all paid yit!" howled Sary, rushing to the door that her mistress might hear her lament.

But the call fell upon deaf ears. Miss Brewster deigned no reply, so Sary sat down heavily upon a strong kitchen chair and took thought for herself. How did Miss Brewster guess her half-formed idea? Had she discovered in some uncanny manner, that Sary had slyly removed Bill's post-card photograph from her Bible and cremated it that she might feel freer to accept a second proposal of marriage—if it came?

"She coulden' hev foun' that out, cuz Ah locked th' box sence then. She mus' be one of them brain-readers by nature, Ah rickon, an' she jes' reads me like a book!"

Never dreaming of the turbulence created in Sary's mind by her casual remark, about dyspepsia and love, Mrs. Brewster took her chair at the table. Immediately after giving thanks, the host stood up to carve the roast. Then, to the surprise of all present, it was seen that the rancher had donned his second-best black coat and had taken the trouble to wear cuffs and a starched collar.

Trying to avoid Polly's eyes, Mrs. Brewster met the gaze of Anne. But the two understood and exchanged a fleeting glance of satisfaction and approval.

"Well, girls, did you visit Rainbow Cliffs—and how did you like them?" asked Mr. Brewster, having finished the carving.

"Oh, they are just wonderful!" declared Eleanor.

"I hear they are very valuable," remarked Barbara.

Mr. Brewster sent her a sharp glance and then frowned at Polly. "Ah
never give that a thought. There they've stood for ages before Sam
Brewster saw them, and Ah reckon there they'll stand for ages after Sam
Brewster is dead and forgotten!"

"Not if I can coax Polly to sell enough of the loose stones to buy an automobile and go off to school!" said Eleanor, emphatically.

An annoyed look from Mr. Brewster and a surprised one from Mrs. Brewster made Anne and Polly feel uncomfortable at Eleanor's lack of tact. But the hostess was equal to the situation.

"Polly, who do you think came to the kitchen door to ask for you while you were at the cliffs, this morning?"

"Here—to ask for me, Mah—mother!" exclaimed Polly, in surprise.

"Yes, and she felt deeply offended because you had not asked for her health or even sent word to her by Jeb—and she so lonely after her accident, too!" Mrs. Brewster managed to express great pathos with her words.

"Oh, my darling Noddy! Mother, did she come to the door?" laughed Polly, sympathetic tears starting in her eyes at the picture called up by her mother.

"Yes, and she said it was simply inexcusable in you. She was willing to carry you anywhere you wished to go, but now she will disown you forever, unless you make peace with her, this afternoon," said Mrs. Brewster, smiling as she saw how she had succeeded in her effort to change the thoughts and conversation of her family.

"And Jeb said he had the horses ready for you girls as soon as you wanted to try them out," added Mr. Brewster.

Dinner was dispatched hastily after this announcement, and the girls ran to don their habits. All idea of Barbara's wiring for return-ticket money that day was forgotten as they went gayly towards the corral to try out different horses.

The entire afternoon was given over to exciting sport, as the girls, and even Mrs. Brewster, tried to outride each other about the great enclosure. Polly made Noddy happy by mounting her silky little back and whispering fond nothings in the long ears. Anne was pleased to find her Chicago friends could ride so well on the restive western horses, and both Chicago girls were surprised to find what a magnificent rider Mrs. Brewster was. She was slowly rising in their private opinions of her.

During the following days, the girls took short rides to points of interest in Bear Forks Valley and nearby mountains. And then came Sunday. Barbara had not openly declared her satisfaction with the ranch or time spent with its people, the past week, but neither had any one heard a hint of her returning to Chicago. In fact, so much had been crowded in the days just gone by, that no moment had been found in which to think of returning home. The trunks had not been opened since the habits had been removed, as there was no need for changes of costumes, and the traveling bags had contained all the girls needed for a few days.

The ranchers of the Rocky Mountains are so strict about observing the Sabbath Day, that everything pleasurable, or in the form of work, has to end at twelve o'clock Saturday night. Every one goes to "meetin'" on Sundays, some driving a distance of twenty miles, or more. Once a month, an ordained preacher crosses the Flat Top Mountains to hold a regular service, and on other Sundays the leading ranchers read the Bible and conduct prayers.

The weather throughout summer in this section of Colorado is generally fine and clear. Should a heavy thunder storm arise, it as quickly passes over again. The nights are cool and dewy and the days glorious and exhilarating. Hence one has no dread of foggy or prolonged rainy days as in the East.

The plan of dining under the trees had proved a good one, and as the weather remained fair, no meals had to be eaten in the kitchen since that first day.

When the family gathered about the table that Sunday morning, they all seemed cheerful and animated, but Mr. Brewster had not yet made his appearance.

"Has Mr. Brewster had breakfast so soon?" asked Anne.

"No, he has not come out yet; he is reading the Sunday lesson for his class in School," replied Mrs. Brewster.

"Sunday School! Do you go? Where is the church?" asked Eleanor, wonderingly.

"Down at Bear Forks School-house. We use it for church, as well as for other important purposes, besides day-school," Mrs. Brewster replied, smilingly.

Soon after the girls appeared at table, Mr. Brewster came out. He said good morning in a very sedate manner that surprised the girls who were not accustomed to his Sunday manners.

That morning he gave a lengthy prayer of thanks that was meant to cover the past week, but once he had concluded grace, he turned to his wife.

"Mary, I'm sure I smelled the omelette scorching."

Mrs. Brewster hurried to the kitchen where she found the eggs burning and the room filled with horrid smoke. Sary was scolding at a great rate, but she never used a profane word because it was wicked.

"Why, Sary, how did you happen to let the eggs burn?"

"How come? Well, I'll tell you-all! Mr. Brewster handed me a printed prayer to learn, and I was looking for my specs in my box when it happened! That's all the good that prayer did me!"

Mrs. Brewster kept a straight face and said: "Well, never mind, Sary.
We'll soon have another omelette ready."

"Not on Sunday! I made one, and that was a sin, ez you kin see by the way it burnt. I does no more cookin' or there'll be extra sin to wipe out. Thar's bread and jam and coffee—enough fer any one to git along on fer a few hours."

Mrs. Brewster knew her husband, however, so she said nothing to Sary, but hurriedly whipped up another omelette and fried it to a delicate brown. This she carried out to serve. At the kitchen door she turned to speak to the help.

"Sary, bring out the bread and jam, will you?"

Sary had filled a deep dish with dry cereal and held it in one hand. She took up the coffee-pot with the other and' ran to get out of the screen-door which had been flung open by her mistress. But the door slammed to sooner than Sary had calculated and struck the coffee-pot in its violent closing, throwing it upon the floor.

"Consarn th' pesky door! Now thar hain't nuthin' on arth fer Mr. Brewster to give thanks fer but jes' toast and jam. Ah cain't bile another pot of coffee on Sunday!" Sary stood contemplating the disaster until Mrs. Brewster called out:

"Sary, will you bring that bread and jam?"

The help brought the desired edibles and explained about the coffee.
Eleanor laughed out loud, but Anne kicked her warningly under the table.

Mr. Brewster turned to explain to his guests. "Ranchers never work on the Sabbath. The less we cook the better it is, for we do penance to our material desire for food. I have never been so severe as to forbid cooked food on my table, but many of the families do. This morning, however, we are compelled to sacrifice our weaknesses to Sary's ways."

So the bread and jam was eaten with the omelette, to the accompaniment of cold water, and then the master prepared to leave the table.

"Girls, don't waste much time fussing with your toilette; we are behind time as it is."

"Did you expect us to go to church?" gasped Barbara.

"Certainly. Everybody goes," returned Mr. Brewster, equally surprised at such a question.

"Why, we haven't unpacked any clothes for church."

"That doesn't matter. The Lord doesn't judge according to dress. If your heart is clean it is all He wants," replied Mr. Brewster, walking away towards the house.

The girls looked at each other in amazement.

"What shall we do, Anne? I won't go in this old rag!" declared Barbara.

"Don't drag me into the argument, Bob. You hate going to church and there's no use trying to pretend it is your dress that keeps you away."

"Would Eleanor care to go with us?" asked Mrs. Brewster.

"Is Polly going?" countered Eleanor.

"Oh, yes, I always go," said Polly.

"We-el, I don't know, Poll. I'll go next Sunday but I am taken by surprise this week. I'll stay home with Bob, I guess."

"Very well, then, I'll tell Mr. Brewster to omit the extra seat in the wagon," and Mrs. Brewster hurried away to dress.

"What shall we do all morning?" asked Eleanor the moment the ranch-wagon was out of sight.

"We might unpack a few things we need, and arrange the trunks so mine can be sent back home without giving you any trouble about yours," suggested Barbara.

"That's a good plan. And a good day to do it in, too," laughed Eleanor.

"I think it is ridiculous—the way they go on about the Sabbath! I suppose they would be dreadfully shocked if they knew we were about to unpack our trunks!" said Barbara, sneeringly.

Time passed quickly in sorting out the numerous items in the seven trunks, and the girls felt famished before they were done. The articles they wished to have out for use were piled up on the grass outside the barn, and it looked a formidable heap when all was ready to leave the barn.

"Goodness me! We'll have to make a dozen trips to the house with all this!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"We'll carry all we can pile up this first trip, and then have luncheon. Afterward we will carry the rest over," said Barbara.

The clothing seemed so light that they kept piling up the articles until they could hardly see from under the mountain of lingerie and accessories. But they both found how heavy the light summer clothes could be, when one's arms were extended unnaturally to hold up so much finery.

They finally reached the porch and threw the things into rustic chairs, while they sat down to cool off in the breeze.

"Now, you carry the clothes to the bedroom, Bob, while I hunt in the kitchen for something to eat," remarked Eleanor, after a time.

These important duties attended to, the girls were about to go to the barn for a second load of clothing when the ranch-wagon drove up to the steps. The family got out and Jeb drove on to the barn.

"What's this on the grass?" asked Mr. Brewster, stooping to pick up a silk stocking.

"That's Barbara's, I think," said Anne, instantly divining the cause of its being there.

Then Jeb came running back to the house with news. "Ah found th' trunks is b'en opened by some one, an' all th' finery is piled on the grass outside th' barn. What hes happened, Ah want to know."

Luckily Mrs. Brewster heard his remark and Mr. Brewster had no time to speak before she caught Anne's hand, and led Jeb back to the barn. Shortly thereafter, the three returned laden with everything ever known in a lady's wardrobe.

"Mary, you have broken the commandments to-day!" said Mr. Brewster, overcoming a keen desire to laugh at his wife.

"Maybe, Sam, but I strengthened another, called the 'Golden Rule'—I certainly did unto them what I want some one to do for mine in case of need. Poor girls!"

Sary happened to be coming from the kitchen with the early supper dishes in her hands. She saw Jeb with dainty silk lingerie almost covering his head, and she heard Mr. and Mrs. Brewster's words. It was too much!

She continued on her way, but once she reached the table she thumped the dishes down to vent her spite. "To think them city gals kin wind Jeb about their fingers like that! On a Sunday, too! Ah wonder hain't he got no respeck fer me an' the Brewster women, that he allows them snippy misses to git him to carry underwear—him what's an unmarried man, at that!"

While the family sat at table enjoying the quiet Sunday evening, Sary took advantage of their interesting discourse to slip away from the kitchen and examine the beautiful lace-trimmed apparel spread out upon the great bed in the guest-room.

"Laws me! Ef it hain't like a bridal outfit. Ef Ah ever hed hed th' chanst t' put on ennything like-es-that, I'd not have hed t'marry a poor rancher like Bill. Ah could have hed my pick of the men at Oak Crick!"

Sary sighed with pity at her own limitations in life, and she crept back to her kitchen planning how she could manage to get one of the girls to present her with some of the bridal finery. Thus pondering the problem, she sat down opposite Jeb and entertained him, as he ate his Sunday supper of pork and beans.