"Poorly expressed, but finely
meant," he cried. "Are you trying to become the preacher in our
family?"
"All packed up and ready to start," she said thoughtfully, "and
to-morrow night we leave our darling little manse, and our precious old
mansers and turn cowboy. Aren't you glad you didn't send me home?"
CHAPTER X
WHERE HEALTH BEGINS
In a little white cottage tent, at the end of a long row of minutely
similar, little white cottage tents, sat David and Carol in the early
evening of a day in May, looking wistfully out at the wide sweep of
gray mesa land, reaching miles away to the mountains, blue and solemn
in the distance.
"Do--do you feel better yet, David?" Carol asked at last, desperately
determined to break the menacing silence.
David drew his breath. "I can't seem to notice any difference yet," he
replied honestly. "It doesn't look much like Missouri, does it?"
"It is pretty,--very pretty," she said resolutely.
"Carol, be a good Presbyterian and tell the truth. Do you wish you had
gone home, to green and grassy Iowa?"
"David Duke, I am at home, and here is where I want to be and no place
else in the world. It is big and bleak and bare, but-- You are going
to get well, aren't you, David?"
"Of course I am, but give me time.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101