Merrifield burst into a hearty laugh. "That's her!" he cried. "That's her! What else did she say?"
"She told me how I ought to ride, and the kind of horse I ought to get, and—"
"Go on, Mrs. Ferris," cried Merrifield.
"Why, she says I never want to ride any horse that any of you cowboys give me, for you're all bad, and you haven't any consideration for a woman and you'd as lief see a woman throwed off and killed as not."
Merrifield's eyes sparkled in the attractive way they had when he was in a hilarious mood. "Say, did you ever hear the like of that? You'd think, to hear that woman talk, that we was nothing but murderers. What else did she say?"
"Well," remarked the new bride, "she said a good many things."
"You tell me, Mrs. Ferris," Merrifield urged.
"For one thing she said the cowboys was vulgar and didn't have any manners. And—oh, yes—she said that refined folks who knew the better things of life ought to stick together and not sink to the level of common people."
"Now, Mrs. Ferris," remarked Merrifield indignantly, "ain't that a ree-di-culous woman? Ain't she now?"
Mrs. Ferris laughed until the tears came to her eyes. "I think she is," she admitted.