"I ought to have known you, Marjorie," he said, "for you are very like your mother."
Marjorie flushed with pleasure.
"I'm glad," she said; "I'd rather look like Mother than any one else. Is Elsie with you?"
"Elsie? You know about my little girl, too, then?"
"Oh, yes, indeed; I know she is just about my age. Mother has a photograph of her, taken when she was a baby, and I've always wished I could see her. Having a cousin of one's own age must be almost as good as having a sister. Oh, I do hope she's coming to the ranch!"
Mr. Carleton shook his head.
"Elsie and her mother were with me, but they have gone back to New York. We have been through the Canadian Rockies and the Yosemite together, and yesterday we stopped at the Grand Canyon. Your aunt and cousin have gone on in the train, but I thought I would like a few days with your mother, so I got off at the nearest station to the ranch, and was driving out. I suppose I should have written, but I thought I would rather enjoy giving your mother a surprise. I hope I sha'n't be in the way."
"No, indeed, you won't," declared Marjorie heartily. "Mother and Father will be delighted, and so will Aunt Jessie. We so seldom have visitors, and it's such a treat, but I'm dreadfully sorry Aunt Julia and Elsie aren't coming, too. What a lucky girl Elsie is to have seen all those wonderful places! Father is going to take Mother and me to the Canyon some day when he can afford it. But I was so glad to see you that I forgot to introduce my friend. Undine, this is my uncle, Mr. Carleton.
"Uncle Henry, this is my friend, Miss Undine—we don't know her other name."
Undine—who had been watching proceedings with interest—smiled shyly, and held out her hand. She had also dismounted from her pony, and was holding him by the bridle.