Mrs. Legg had already taken off her heavy shawl and bonnet, and had arranged her hair before the hall mirror, and stood in her neat plain dress, with fresh crêpe lis ruches—which she had taken from the flap pocket outside her bag—around neck and wrists, and her only ornaments a gold watch and chain and a set of pearls, consisting of brooch and earrings, which had been her husband’s wedding present to herself and which she always carried about her when traveling for fear, if left at home, they might be stolen. These she had now taken from her pocket and put on.
Altogether she was quite presentable in that drawing-room. And as, with all, she was a “comely” matron, her husband looked upon her with pardonable pride as well as love.
But while furtively glancing at his wife he was putting off his ulster and speaking to his host all at the same time.
“I hadn’t a notion what you were about,” he was saying, “until your man came in loaded down with our luggage. As soon as I saw that and found out what you had done I hurried out to pay the fare, but the carryall had gone.”
“It is all right,” said Ran. “Come in now and let me introduce you to my friends.”
“Please, Mr. Hay, let me brush his hair and put a clean collar and bosom on him first. I won’t be two minutes,” pleaded Mrs. Legg.
Ran yielded, and the man’s toilet was made in the hall, as the woman’s had been a few minutes previous.
Then Ran took Mrs. Legg on his arm and led the way into the drawing-room, followed by old Dandy and John Legg.
Hay presented his new visitor first to his wife and then to all his guests. And the plain pair, it is almost needless to say, were as cordially received by the cultured people from the English rectory as they were by the border men from the Californian mining camp.
When this little ripple in the circle had subsided all settled again into small groups.