"Oh, yes; I can make a good time for myself wherever I am—but when we’re alone there—it’s so still, I’m afraid of the sound of my own voice, and jump for joy if I see a chipmunk peeping out of its hole. There’s something spry about them, at all attempts. The natives would do well to imitate them. Such a slow lot—and those guides with their drawling voices. The world just stops, when you get up to the Adirondacks." "I’m never so happy," remarked Glen, "as when I’m in the forests and on those lakes. It’s the real thing. City life goes against my grain, somehow." "I always feel quite natural in the woods," said Indiana. "Just as though I belonged there, with the other wild things." "When did those English friends of yours say they were coming up, grandma?" inquired Mr. Stillwater, in a muffled voice, having again taken shelter under the handkerchief, after recovering from the last of the many shocks he was in the habit of receiving from his mother-in-law. "They said September, but I have a shrewd idea they’ll get tired of travelling before then. They may arrive the latter part of August. They’ll be glad to see a little home life once more." "Friends of yours, Mrs. Bunker?" inquired Glen, with a slight frown. "Yes; Lord Canning and his uncle, Lord Nelson Stafford. They belong to a representative noble English family. I met them at Cannes last year—" "Lord Canning is a very distinguished looking gentleman," said Mrs. Stillwater. "His face inspires trust, if I’m not mistaken," remarked her husband. "I promised to show him the sights," said Indiana, with a mischievous smile. "How kind and disinterested of you," remarked Glen, in a very sarcastic voice. "What do you mean by that?" demanded Indiana. "I mean you intended to make an impression on him, by the time you were through with the sights," answered Glen, with a pale face. "And supposing I did," said Indiana, provokingly. "It wouldn’t be the first time I have made an impression, nor will it be the last." "Oh, well, I suppose you must have someone to flirt with," said Glen, resignedly. "Now, children, don’t quarrel! You know what that New York oracle said: ’Rest and quiet.’" "I never flirted with you," said Indiana. "I should hope not," answered Glen, in a very dignified manner. "What do you mean by that?" "I mean that I intend to be taken seriously, or not at all." They all gasped at this temerity from such an unexpected quarter. Stillwater peeped at Indiana from under the corner of his handkerchief. "No man has ever yet dictated to me," said Indiana, majestically. "It’s more than I’d do," murmured Stillwater. "Men are generally only too glad if I will tolerate them on any terms," continued Indiana.