Outside her door Pen found Betty waiting expectantly.
“Bobbie gave us a nickel apiece not to disturb you,” she began glibly. “She said you had a headache last night. And father’s come home and brought a man with him. And mother’s coming soon.”
Pen found herself only languidly interested in these announcements. She listened distraitly to the prattle of the children who surrounded her while she was served with toast and coffee.
“Father and the man are motoring around the ranch,” said Francis, “but they will be back to lunch.”
This roused her to the extent of making a more elaborate toilet than usual. She came into the library shortly before the luncheon hour, clad in one of the gowns she had taken from the trunk Marta had brought, her hair done with exquisite care.
“Why, Aunty Pen!” cried Betty. “You look so different. You look grown up.”
“I am, Betty,” she said gravely.
“Miss Pen!” exclaimed Kingdon, coming forward. “Our hills have gotten in their curative powers speedily. I was afraid you were of the lily family, but I see you are a bud of the rose.”
While she was replying to his banter, Kurt came into the room. She felt a little feminine thrill of pleasure in his look of unspoken admiration.
“I left my guest, Mr. Hebler, down at the stables,” continued Kingdon. “Billy, run down and tell him it is nearly time for luncheon. I made a new acquaintance while I was away,” he explained to Pen. “Bruce Hebler. I persuaded him to stop off on his way out to California.”