"In such a case he'd probably be sitting up too late the night before," said Carter. "But it's a pretty idea, just the same," he declared, looking at Louisa.
"I think a sunset is prettier," insisted Clarice. "I've never been able to rub the sleep out of my eyes to appreciate the sunrise as Hope describes it. But I think she is an exception."
"Would there were more then," said Livingston fervently.
His earnestness seemed to amuse Clarice, for she turned to him and laughed. Hope swung about quickly, stung for the instant.
"It is sacred," she cried softly, then opening the tent-flap with a quick movement she stepped out into the evening.
Jim McCullen was putting up a new tent down near the edge of the stream for the accommodation of the ladies. The girl went over to where he was at work and assisted him by steadying one pole while he fastened the canvas in position.
"How's the ranch, Jim?" she asked. "Mrs. Van Rensselaer hasn't had time to tell me yet."
"Well, it's about the same as ever," replied McCullen slowly. "I reckon your father's gettin' pretty lonesome without you. Feels like a lost horse by now. That there little Rosebush—Rosehill, he and them Cresmonds have gone back East to get ready fer the great weddin' they're talkin' about. Them folks seem to think it's a mighty fine thing to catch a lord er an earl. But it always seemed to me that the Almighty left out a whole pile in order to give some o' them fellers a title. Forgot Rosehill's brains entirely, an' he ain't no bigger'n a minute, neither."
"I guess you're right, about him," said Hope, kneeling beside McCullen as he fashioned a stake pin more to his liking. "I hope that outfit won't come out here another year; I don't like them very well. It's nice and sweet out here on the grass, isn't it? I don't mind staying here at all to-night. I don't see what makes me feel so sleepy and drowsy though, but I do—sort of tired, as though I wanted to get away and go to bed. I haven't ridden far to-day either—only a few miles after school. Jim, I wish I were back to-night at the ranch—I wish I could go and say good-night to my father, and go away to my own room."
McCullen looked up from the peg he was driving, and remarked: "I'll warrent you'll have as good a night's sleep out here in this tent as you would at home on the ranch. Plenty o' fresh air an' no misquitoes to bother. But I reckon your father'd like to see you just the same to-night."