Mr. Ross invited Clement to sit with them, as she hoped he would. Clement had, indeed, intended to force the invitation. "I'm going for a gallop this morning," he said in explanation of his dress. "I wish you could go too," he added, addressing Ellice.
Mr. Ross introduced him to the elderly woman: "Mr. Clement, let me present you to my sister, Miss Ross."
Miss Ross was plump like her brother, and a handsome woman, but irritable like him. She complained, also, of the altitude and of the chill shadows. Neither father nor aunt formed a suitable companion for the sick girl.
Clement was the antidote. His whole manner of treatment was of the hopeful, buoyant sort. He spoke of the magnificent weather, of the mountains, of the purity of the water.
"After I get back from my ride I wish you'd let me come and talk with you. Perhaps," he added, "you'll be able to walk a little way with me."
He made the breakfast almost cheerful by his presence, and went away saying:
"I'll be back by ten o'clock and I shall expect to find you ready for a walk."
Miss Ross was astonished both at his assurance and at Ellice's singular interest and apparent acquiescence.
"Well, that is a most extraordinary man. I wonder if that's the Western way."
"I wish I were able to do as he says," the girl said quietly. The old people looked up in astonishment.