"Thank you, oh a thousand thanks!" Juanita said, "but the skin is all I want; I prefer the moccasins plain for this occasion, especially as I can make them up so much more quickly. But may I not first help you with your work? I can wash dishes, and sweep, and dust, and make beds."
"No, no, my dear!" Mrs. Baird said, in her bright, cheery way; "you shall do nothing of the kind. It is very kind and thoughtful—your offering to do it—but I really don't need help, and you must sit right down to those moccasins. If you like to sit in the kitchen while I'm busy there, I'll be very glad of your company."
Before sunset Juanita's bridal attire was quite ready, and she exhibited it to Rupert's admiring eyes with perhaps as much pride and satisfaction as a city belle might have taken in her silks and satins.
"Mrs. Baird says the dress is old-fashioned and not a good color—" began Juanita.
"But what difference does that make, my sweet?" interrupted Rupert; "who of us will know the difference? And I am sure you will look very lovely, at least in the bridegroom's eyes, and in fact will be better dressed than he," he added gayly. "I hope you won't be ashamed of him."
"Never, never! but proud, very proud!" she cried, throwing an arm about his neck and laying her head on his breast.
"Not prouder than I of my bride," he said softly, caressing her tenderly.
They were interrupted by the call to supper, and scarcely had the meal begun when a horseman rode up to the gate, dismounted, fastened his horse as if quite at home, then came hurrying up the path toward the open door.
There was a simultaneous exclamation from several voices, "Why, there's Mr. Clark," and the whole family rose to greet him with a hearty handshake and words of welcome.
Then Rupert and Juanita were introduced, another plate was added to the table, a chair set up for the new arrival, and he warmly invited to share their meal.