There was a chorus of half-stifled exclamations of delight; then Cordelia demanded anxiously:
"But, Genevieve, will they be glad to see us, really—all your people out there?"
"Glad! I reckon they will be," averred Genevieve, warmly. "The boys will give us a rousing welcome, and there won't be anything too good for Mr. Tim and Mammy Lindy to do."
"Who are they?" asked Tilly.
"Mr. Tim is the ranch foreman, 'the boss,' the boys call him. He's been with us ever since I can remember, and he's so good to me! Mammy Lindy is—well, Mammy Lindy is a dear! You'll love Ol' Mammy. She's been just a mother to me ever since my own mother died eight years ago." Genevieve's voice faltered a little, then went on more firmly. "She's a negro woman, you know. Her people were slaves, once."
"And—the—boys?" asked Cordelia, dubiously. "Are they your—brothers, Genevieve?"
Genevieve laughed—a little more loudly than perhaps she realized.
"Brothers!—well, hardly! The boys are the cowboys—on the ranch, you know. My, but they'll give us a welcome! I reckon they'll ride into town to give it, too, in all their war paint. Just you wait till you see the boys—and hear them!" And Genevieve laughed again.
All in the dark Cordelia looked distinctly shocked; but, being in the dark, nobody noticed it.
"Well, I for one just can't wait," began Tilly, hugging herself with her arms about her knees. "Only think, it'll be whole days now before we get there, and—"