"I reckon maybe I'll have to explain," he replied. "Long John told me they'd got it all fixed up that, after your fine doings back East, you wouldn't take to things on the ranch very well. So for two days the whole bunch has been slicking things up, including themselves. They hunted up every stiff hat and b'iled shirt in this part of Texas, I reckon, for that splurge at Bolo; and Mammy Lindy says they've been pestering the life out of her, slicking up the house." Genevieve drew in her breath with a little cry. "There! That's what was the matter with the rooms," she ejaculated. "Nothing looked natural--but some things weren't exactly 'slicked up,' Mr. Tim. I couldn't turn around without finding a book at my elbow. There's scarcely one left on the shelves!" "Maybe I can explain that," returned the man, with a twinkle in his eyes. "Reddy said the East was mighty strong on books and culturing, so I s'pose he thought he'd have 'em 'round handy. It's lucky your father had all them books come out while you was studying, or else I reckon the boys would have hit the trail for the nearest book-store and roped every book in sight." Genevieve laughed appreciatively. "But, the supper?" she frowned again. "Oh, that's part of the outfit--and Reddy said it was 'dinner,' too. He said that he was raised back East, and that he knew; and that 'twas more seemly that you ate it without their company." "Humph! Well, it isn't, and I sha'n't," settled Genevieve, emphatically. "Where is Reddy? Go in to supper," she laughed, "and I'll round up the boys--I mean, I'll find them," she corrected demurely. "Miss Jane doesn't like me to say 'round up,' Mr. Tim." Mr. Tim smiled, but his eyes grew tender--almost anxious. "I reckon they haven't spoiled you back East, after all, little girl. You're the same true blue, like you was, before." Genevieve laughed and colored a little. "Of course I am," she declared. "Now I'm going for the boys." Mr. Tim laid a detaining hand on her arm. "Not to-night; it's late, and it would make no end of fuss all around. But I'll tell them. They'll be on hand for breakfast, all right. Now go back to your own supper, yourself." "All right," agreed Genevieve, reluctantly. "But--to-morrow, remember!" "I ain't forgetting--to-morrow," nodded the man. In the dining-room Genevieve was greeted with a merry clamor, under cover of which she said hurriedly to her father: "It's all right. They'll come to-morrow." "I guess you won't find we've left you much to eat," gurgled Elsie Martin, her mouth full of fried chicken. "Oh, yes, I shall--in Texas," retorted Genevieve. "But I'm so ashamed," apologized Cordelia. "I don't think we ought to eat so much." "I do," disagreed Tilly, "when everything is so perfectly lovely as this is. They are just the nicest things! And just guess how many hot biscuits I've eaten with this delicious plum sauce! Mr. Hartley says they're wild--the plums, I mean, not the biscuits."