"Guess you do your best to make it that way."
The girl laughed as she led the way in.
"That surely is a pretty nice talk, my Daddy. Guess I'll take advantage of it, an' keep you waiting another three minutes while I get rid of the dust."
Her father nodded.
"Jeff comin' up?" he inquired.
The girl shook her head. For a moment the smiling eyes were hidden beneath their lids.
"Not for supper. He's gone on to the branding 'pinch.'"
She was gone before her father could reply, and he was left to his own reflections, which were still further inspired by impatience.
Well enough he knew the arduous nature of the work. Had he not been at it himself since the first streak of dawn? But he felt that Jeff was going beyond the bounds of necessity. Even beyond the bounds of reason.
However, he was not given much time to nurse any imaginary grievance. For Nan reappeared after a surprisingly short interval, and the transformation she had achieved was not a little startling. Her dusty riding suit had given place to a pretty house frock of some softly clinging material which restored to her at once the charm of her essential femininity. The pretty brown of her eyes, and the wavy softness of her hair became indescribably charming in such a setting. Bud regarded her with warm approval, and his spirits rose.