The recognition of her school-friend put Rosalie in a new flutter; and yet such was the joy of sitting on the back seat of the stage with Betsy that she had not the heart to hope for orders to stay at the Fountain House. For the hundredth time she calculated what money Mrs. Bruce had expended on her course in English, and for the hundredth time felt herself wither under the scorn of that lady’s eyes should she recognize her and discover that, after all, she had not been able to rise above the level where she was found. “If I could only pay her! If I could only pay her!” sang through the girl’s head like an ever-recurring refrain. The sudden announcement that the Fountain Geyser was about to play caused a stampede among the guests of the hotel, and everybody who had wraps to withstand the cold of the July evening hastened out to be in time for the show. Mrs. Bruce was greatly excited. “It’s a shame, a perfect shame that the Company don’t warn people to bring flannels and furs,” she said. “Even my sweater feels like muslin.” “You’re going to wear my overcoat, Madama,” said Irving, beginning to put it about her. “No indeed, Mr. Irving,” burst forth Betsy, and was rewarded by a flash behind Mrs. Bruce’s eyeglasses. “Do you suppose I should allow him, Betsy? What are you thinking of!” As she spoke sharply, the offended woman drew away from her son, and Betsy hastened to mollify her. “I’m going to wrap you up in my things, Mrs. Bruce,” she said. The lady made a faint protest. “Yes, ma’am, you let me, because you couldn’t drag me away from this fire anyway. I’d rather see flames spout than water to-night.” Irving frowned. “You didn’t come across the continent for that, Betsy,” he began. She gave him her one-sided smile. “I came across the continent because I had to,” she returned, meanwhile making her slender mistress shapeless under a large golf-cape. “I’ve been readin’ the guide-book; and I’ve got lots o’ geysers comin’ to me yet.” “I do think,” said Mrs. Bruce, when she and Irving were out of doors and hastening on their way to the widespread crust of the formation, “I do think Betsy might be more appreciative of her advantages. Almost any one else would value more the privilege of a visit to the Yellowstone.” “Yes,” returned Irving dryly, “and the more the other one appreciated it, the less she’d lend you her golf-cape.” Mrs. Bruce looked at him. “You always take Betsy’s part!” she exclaimed. “I’m only showing you that you chose your companion wisely,” was the quiet reply. “There, Madama, it’s beginning. Can you sprint?” Mrs. Bruce could sprint with any girl that lived, and they were soon on the outskirts of the shivering, eager crowd, and Mrs. Bruce was making little ineffectual hops in the endeavor to see over and between the heads of those in front of her. But instantly the fountain shot into the air and played in the mysterious twilight under a cold pale moon, and a hush fell upon all.