"For good, and for all time," replied Livingston, the youthful expression of his face settling into maturer lines of sadness. "I have not one tie left. My friend, Carter here, will tell you that I have settled down in these mountains as a respectable sheep-man--respectable, if not dearly beloved. Miss Hathaway does not believe there can be anything respectable about the sheep business, but I have promised to convert her. Is that not so?" he asked, turning to her. "He has promised to give me a pet lamb to take back to the ranch," she said, laughing. "I shall put a collar on its neck and lead it by a blue ribbon! At least it will be as good an ornament as Clarice Van Rensselaer's poodle. Horrible little thing!" "Now just imagine the beautiful Mrs. Larry O'Hara trailing that kind of a baist about the streets of New York! I move that the animal be rejected with thanks!" exclaimed Larry. Livingston looked at him in quiet amazement, then at Hope and Sydney to see how they took his audacity. "Don't worry, Larry, dear," replied Hope. "The pet lamb hasn't been accepted yet--or you, either! I shall probably choose the pet lamb, but rely on my good judgment, that's a nice boy, and don't let such a little matter bother you!" Larry heaved an unnaturally deep sigh, at which little Louisa laughed, and Sydney patted him upon the shoulder, exclaiming: "Cheer up! You have an even chance with the lamb. You don't need to be afraid of such a rival!" "But she says herself that the animal's chances are the best," said Larry dismally. Then with a sudden inspiration: "How much'll you take for that baist? I'll buy him of you--_Mr._ Livingston!" "Now's your chance to make some money!" cried Sydney. Livingston quickly entered the mood of the moment. "Miss Hathaway has an option on the lamb," he said, looking at her. "If she wants to throw it up I shall be glad to sell it to you." "She wants her supper mostly now," said Hope. "Come on, let's eat, for we must get back. See all the fine things William has prepared for us!" After the meal, when the girls rose to depart, Larry insisted upon accompanying them home. "I am going along, too," laughed Sydney, "so I'll see that he gets back to camp all right! You might as well let him go, Hope." "Well, if he is so foolish, after his hard day's ride," she said, with a shrug of the shoulders. "But get him a fresh horse, Sydney. At least we can spare the poor tired animal!" Sydney and O'Hara both went a short distance away to get the saddle-horse which was feeding quietly on the hillside. Hope led her horse down to the water and while it was drinking Livingston came and stood beside her. For a moment they remained there quiet, side by side, then the man spoke: "It is of such as this that life's sweetest moments are made. It seems almost a sacrilege to break the spell, but I cannot always be silent. You know I love you, Hope!"