“The road lay at the very base of the greenfoot-hills.”
“And how’s Pedro?”
“He’s fine, too.”
“Have the little collies grown much?”
Dick laughed. “They’re not little any more, Miss Virginia.”
“And how are Alec and Joe and Hannah and Mr. Weeks and William?”
“They’re first-rate, and all anxious to see you.”
Virginia clung closer to her father’s hand. “It seems strange, doesn’t it, father,” she whispered, her voice breaking, “and—and sad not to have Jim drive us home?”
For miles they drove across the broad prairies, past grain fields and through barren, unirrigated stretches. Then at last they turned a bend in the road, and there before them lay the nearer foot-hills, with the higher ranges above, and far above all the mountains—still snow-covered.
“They look really friendly this morning with the sun on them,” said Virginia, “and they ought to when I love them so, and am coming back to them.”