They were at Mrs. Folsom's to dinner one day. Uncle Jason had found it necessary to be away late on business, and would come for them. He did not quite like to leave them alone in Pablo's care, though Bruno was a good keeper. But an evil-disposed person might shoot the dog. He began to realize that it was more exposed up on the hill now that there were so many rough workmen about. Another year of it, and then——
They had a delightful little dinner in a "tea room," there was a great deal of coming and going in the large dining room. And Mrs. Folsom said:
"I'm going to ask a guest in to share your company. She's rather lonely, as her husband is away on some business. They have been here a fortnight or so. Laverne will like to hear her talk. She's been most all over."
So she brought in Mrs. Westbury, and introduced her.
"I hope I haven't intruded," the newcomer said, in a peculiarly attractive voice. In a young girl it would have been pronounced winsome. "I have been taking some meals in my own room; I tired of going to the public table when Mr. Westbury was not here. But I do get so lonely. I generally go with him, but this was up to the mines, where the roughness and wickedness of the whole world congregates, I believe."
"You are quite welcome," Miss Holmes replied, with a certain New England reserve in her voice.
"You came from the East?" with an appreciative smile, as if that was in her favor.
"From Boston; yes." Miss Holmes was always proud of that.
"And I from southern New Hampshire; we're not so very far apart. I married Mr. Westbury in New York, but we have been about—almost everywhere," in a tired voice. "I had wanted to travel, and I've had it."
Laverne's eyes kindled. "And were you abroad?" she asked rather timidly.