"Oh, no, this sounds a great deal worse than it is," was the response.
"You're comforting me, I know you are"; and Mrs. Fabian, denuded of her correct hat, permitted herself to take the offered chair by the fire. "I hope, though, that you have a kennel of St. Bernard dogs in the back yard. I should like to see Henry again, bad as he is!"
Mrs. Sidney took the other chair and rolled a blazing log to a better position.
"You'll see the men coming along in a little while—when they grow hungry," she returned placidly.
"And how in the world do you get servants up here?" demanded the other.
"We don't. We could get a Chinaman, but if we had him we'd have to amuse him, there's no one else for him to talk to, so we go without."
"Horrors!" ejaculated Mrs. Fabian with solemn repugnance. "And you live here alone!"
The hostess laughed at her tone. "Not enough of the year to dislike it. One learns a lot of things in these hills—bidding farewell to time, for instance. You see a man with a gun tramping through the valley and you rush to the door, and cry out, 'Hey, there, you with the gun, what day is this?' and the man turns and shouts back, 'You can't prove it by me!'"
Mrs. Sidney laughed again and her cousin shuddered.