“Trouble that we would not willingly forego.”
Blue Bonnet nestled closer. “I almost wish you didn’t care so much. I shall have to go some day. I—papa would not like me not to.”
“I know, dear; some day you must go back. Only you want to make yourself ready—I do not think you are quite that yet.”
“No—I must get I suppose where I won’t let Benita and the rest spoil me. It’s very pleasant, being spoiled, Grandmother. I never knew how much Benita did for me, until I came here. She always did my hair—she can braid hair beautifully. It hasn’t looked very beautiful lately. I hate braiding hair.”
“It is rather flyaway hair,” Mrs. Clyde smoothed the girl’s head lovingly, “but I don’t think it is quite as flyaway as it was at first.”
“I wish you were going back to the ranch with me,” Blue Bonnet said. “Grandmother, don’t you ever get tired of having the houses so close? Wouldn’t you like to push them back?”
“I don’t know that I would, dear.”
“I would,” Blue Bonnet said; then for a while she sat very still, looking into the fire.
Mrs. Clyde was silent also; she was thinking of the other Elizabeth—who had left her at eighteen.
“Grandmother,” Blue Bonnet said sadly, “it’s no use—I sha’n’t ever be ready—really ready. Imagine living on a cattle ranch, and being afraid to ride!”