it's Lena! Of course I didn't know you, so
dressed up!"

Lena Lingard laughed, as if this pleased her.
I had not recognized her for a moment, either.
I had never seen her before with a hat on her
head -- or with shoes and stockings on her
feet, for that matter. And here she was,
brushed and smoothed and dressed like a town
girl, smiling at us with perfect composure.

"Hello, Jim," she said carelessly as she
walked into the kitchen and looked about her.
"I've come to town to work, too, Tony."

"Have you, now? Well, ain't that funny!"
Antonia stood ill at ease, and didn't seem to
know just what to do with her visitor.

The door was open into the dining-room,
where Mrs. Harling sat crocheting and Frances
was reading. Frances asked Lena to come in
and join them.

"You are Lena Lingard, aren't you? I've
been to see your mother, but you were off
herding cattle that day. Mama, this is Chris
Lingard's oldest girl."

Mrs. Harling dropped her worsted and ex-
amined the visitor with quick, keen eyes.
Lena was not at all disconcerted. She sat
down in the chair Frances pointed out, care-

[[182]]

p181 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p182w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p183

v?