We both laughed. Uncle Jake under a gorgeous counterpane would make a graven image smile. Gloriana laughed with us. "It'd be most too dainty fer some," she said, with a surprising sense of humour, "but I was thinkin' ye wanted a gift fer one o' yer high- toned relations in the old country. No? Well, take yer time: a gift ain't lightly chosen." "I shall tackle Uncle Jake," said Ajax, as he rode over the ranch. "Gloriana is too discreet, but she bought that bonnet for her own wedding." Uncle Jake, however, was cunning of fence. "I don't feel lonesome," he declared. "Ye see I'm a cattle man, an' I like the travelled trails. I ain't huntin' no quicksands. Many a feller has mired down tryin' a new crossin'. No, sir, I calkilate ter remain single." "He's very foxy," commented Ajax, "but he means business. It really bothers me that they won't confide in us." The November rains were unusually heavy that year, and confined us to the house. Gloriana had borrowed a sewing-machine from a neighbour, and worked harder than ever, inflaming her eyes and our curiosity. We speculated daily upon her past, present and future, having little else to distract us in a life that was duller than a Chinese comedy. We waxed fat in idleness, but the cook grew lean. "You're are losing flesh, Gloriana," said I, noting her sunken cheeks and glittering eyes. "In a good cause," she replied fervently. "Anyways, ther ain't a happier woman than me in the state of Californy! Well, I'm most thro' with my sewing, an' I'd like ter show ye both what I've done, but----" "We've have been waiting for this, Gloriana," said Ajax, tartly. "As a member of the family you have not treated my brother and myself fairly. This mysterious work of yours is not only wearing you to skin and bone, it is consuming us with curiosity." "Ye're jokin', Mr. Ajax." "This is no joking matter, Gloriana." She blushed, and glanced indecisively at two solemn faces. "Ye've bin more 'n good ter me," she said slowly, "but a secret is a secret till it's told. I hate ter tell my secret, an'--an' yer both young unmarried men. It's really embarrassin'." "Your secret is no secret," said my brutal brother. "Somebody, Gloriana, is about to get married--eh?" "Good land! How did ye come ter guess that?" "Uncle Jake has not said a word." "Well--why should he?" "He's as close as a clam--the old sinner. So we can congratulate you, Gloriana?" "Ye kin indeed." We shook hands, and she led the way to her own room. There, spread upon her bed, lay some dainty garments, exquisitely fashioned,--a regular trousseau! Even to our inexperienced eyes the beauty of the workmanship was amazing. "A woman," she murmured, "likes ter look at sech things. An' I do think these air good enough." "Good enough!" we repeated. "They're fit for a queen." "An' a queen is goin' ter wear 'em," said Gloriana proudly--"a queen o' beauty." We stared blankly at each other. Had Cupid robbed his victim of her wits?