“Oh, yes!”
“Well these Cummingses are of the same old clan. I was a Cummings myself before I was married. I am a lone widow now, you know.”
“Yes, I have heard so.”
“Well, I had three brothers. Alexander, who is the landlord and ferryman and post-master down at Wolf’s Gap; and Ralph, who is your overseer here; and last of all, poor Cuthbert, my youngest brother, who was the father of this girl, Philly. He used to drive the stage between Wolf’s Gap and Hill Top in North Caroliny, but he and his wife have been in heaven this many a day. Philly used first to live with Aleck at Wolf’s Gap. I, having no children of my own and being lonesome like, have adopted the orphan. And a great charge she is to me! Why, ma’am, I had rather undertake ten boys than one such girl. She rides the wildest horses; she hunts the worst game. Yes! She rides, shoots and hunts like a wild Indian! And even dreams of it when she sleeps.”
“I shall like Philly! I am sure I shall like Philly! There is something in her,” exclaimed Gloria, as she got into her own bed and drew the cover closely up around her neck, for it was keenly cold up in these mountain regions, so that the great wood fire scarcely sufficed to warm the room.
The housekeeper blew out the candle and laid herself down to rest.
Gloria, utterly prostrated with her week’s ride, no sooner laid her head upon the pillow than she dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep that lasted until far into the next morning.
When she awoke, at length, the sun was shining in through the blue and white checked curtains.
She looked around in some confusion on the rude, unplastered walls and ceiling, the bare oak floor, and the unpainted wooden chairs and table, quite unable to remember where she was; but in a few moments memory returned, and she understood the situation.
There was no one but herself in the room, which was now restored to perfect order, the other bed being made up, the fire replenished, the hearth swept, and fresh water and clean towels placed on the rude dressing-table.