“He says he was afraid I wouldn’t come if I knew how rough it was—and that—” added Ruth, laughing—“he says would have been such a pity! Besides, he thought Nani was alone—and I could have had her room while she slept on the hay in the loft. I’m sure this is as neat as a mountain shelter could be,” said Ruth—looking about her at the high piled feather beds, covered in clean blue and white check, and the spotless floor and the snow white pine table. “I’d like to stay here, only the—the other lady has just arrived too!”
“The lady in the blue overalls?”
“Yes—and—” Ruth stopped, unwilling to say how little relish she felt for the society of the second Sennerin. But Rex and her father were on their feet and speaking together.
“We will go and see about the Jagd-hütte. You don’t mind being left for five minutes?”
“The idea! go along, you silly boys!”
The colonel came back very soon, and in the best of spirits.
“It’s all right, Daisy! It’s a dream of luxury!” and carried her off, hardly giving her time to thank Nani and to say a winningly kind word to the hideous one, who gazed back at her, pitchfork in hand, without reply. No one will ever know whether or not she felt any more cheered by Ruth’s pleasant ways than the cows did who were putting their heads out from the stalls where she was working.
The dream of luxury was a low hut of two rooms. The outer one had a pile of fresh hay in one corner and a few blankets. Some of the dogs were already curled up there. The inner room contained two large bunks with hay and rugs and blankets; a bench ran where the bunks were not, around the sides; a shelf was above the bunks; there was a cupboard and a chest and a table.
“Why, this is luxury!” cried Ruth.
“Well—I think so, too. I’m immensely relieved. Sepp says artists bring their wives up here to stay over for the sunrise. You’ll do? Eh?”