"What's the fun?" questioned Edith.
"Miss Bright is pleading guilty to working more hours than she should."
"Oh, no, I didn't, Edith," she said merrily. "I said we had been making ready for Christmas."
Edith sat on a stool at her teacher's side. She, too, was ready for a tilt.
"You're not to pronounce sentence, Mr. Judge, until you see what we have been doing. It's to be a great surprise." And Edith looked wise and mysterious.
Then Esther withdrew, returning a little later, gowned in an old-rose house dress of some soft wool stuff. She again sat near the fire.
"Papa," said Edith, "I have been telling Miss Bright about the annual Rocky Mountain ball, and that she must surely go."
John Clayton looked amused.
"I'm afraid Edith couldn't do justice to that social function. I am quite sure you never saw anything like it. It is the most primitive sort of a party, made up of a motley crowd,—cowboys, cowlassies, miners and their families, and ranchmen and theirs. They come early, have a hearty supper, and dance all night; and as many of them imbibe pretty freely, they sometimes come to blows."
He seemed amused at the consternation in Esther's face.