“Your sister wanted the real thing, didn’t she? Said they all wanted it. Wal, I reckon they’ve begun gettin’ it,” replied Stillwell. That statement from the cattleman allayed Madeline’s pangs of conscience. She understood just what she felt, though she could not have put it in words. She was hungry for a sight of well-remembered faces; she longed to hear the soft laughter and gay repartee of old friends; she was eager for gossipy first-hand news of her old world. Nevertheless, something in her sister’s letter, in messages from the others who were coming, had touched Madeline’s pride. In one sense the expected guests were hostile, inasmuch as they were scornful and curious about the West that had claimed her. She imagined what they would expect in a Western ranch. They would surely get the real thing, too, as Stillwell said; and in that certainty was satisfaction for a small grain of something within Madeline which approached resentment. She wistfully wondered, however, if her sister or friends would come to see the West even a little as she saw it. That, perhaps, would he hoping too much. She resolved once for all to do her best to give them the sensation their senses craved, and equally to show them the sweetness and beauty and wholesomeness and strength of life in the Southwest. “Wal, as Nels says, I wouldn’t be in that there ottomobile right now for a million pesos,” remarked Stillwell. “Why? Is Stevens driving fast?” “Good Lord! Fast? Miss Majesty, there hain’t ever been anythin’ except a streak of lightnin’ run so fast in this country. I’ll bet Link for once is in heaven. I can jest see him now, the grim, crooked-legged little devil, hunchin’ down over that wheel as if it was a hoss’s neck.” “I told him not to let the ride be hot or dusty,” remarked Madeline. “Haw, haw!” roared Stillwell. “Wal, I’ll be goin’. I reckon I’d like to be hyar when Link drives up, but I want to be with the boys down by the bunks. It’ll be some fun to see Nels an’ Monty when Link comes flyin’ along.” “I wish Al had stayed to meet them,” said Madeline. Her brother had rather hurried a shipment of cattle to California: and it was Madeline’s supposition that he had welcomed the opportunity to absent himself from the ranch. “I am sorry he wouldn’t stay,” replied Florence. “But Al’s all business now. And he’s doing finely. It’s just as well, perhaps.” “Surely. That was my pride speaking. I would like to have all my family and all my old friends see what a man Al has become. Well, Link Stevens is running like the wind. The car will be here before we know it. Florence, we’ve only a few moments to dress. But first I want to order many and various and exceedingly cold refreshments for that approaching party.” Less than a half-hour later Madeline went again to the porch and found Florence there. “Oh, you look just lovely!” exclaimed Florence, impulsively, as she gazed wide-eyed up at Madeline. “And somehow so different!”