Mrs. Prescott was a good deal disappointed that she could not have Mr. Rayborne for a guide, and because she could not she did not go on a single trail. As she cared little for scenery and there were but few people at the hotel of what she called her set she was ready to leave at any time. “Not till I have made my visit to Inez,” Fanny said, and after they had been at the hotel a week it was arranged that she should spend a day with her friend and be taken up the next morning by the stage which was to pass the cottage and leave the valley by way of Inspiration Point. CHAPTER VI. AT PROSPECT COTTAGE. It was one of the loveliest of all the summer days in the Yosemite when Inez drove up to the hotel in a buggy which had seen a good deal of service and was not like anything Fanny had ever ridden in. But she did not care. She was delighted to see Inez, who appeared at her best on her native heath and received the warm greetings of those who knew her with the grace and dignity of a young queen. Mrs. Prescott was invited to accompany Fanny, but declined, and the two girls set off alone for Prospect Cottage. Inez was very happy. “I am so glad to have this little bit of you,” she said, giving a squeeze to Fanny’s hand and then dropping it again. “And we will have such a good time to-day all by ourselves. I haven’t much to do. I was up at four o’clock to get my work done, baking and all, and have made a lot of things I think you will like. One is huckleberry pie.” Fanny had never seen one, but was sure she should like it, and anything else Inez chose to give her. “It won’t be like the hotel, nor your New York home,” Inez said, “I do everything myself and oh, isn’t it lovely here among the mountains with this pure air which makes me feel so strong as if I should live forever.” She was very enthusiastic and Fanny, who also felt the invigorating effects of the atmosphere, entered into her enthusiasm and enjoyed everything, from the wild flowers they stopped to gather, to the musical brook, which went singing along in its rocky bed beside the carriage road. “This is our house,” Inez said at last, pointing to a cottage in a niche of the hills behind some trees which partially hid it from the highway which was below it at a little distance. An immense dog came out to meet them, frisking about the buggy and barking his welcome. “That’s Nero. You saw him at the hotel,” Inez said. “I leave him at home to watch the house when I go away. Good Nero, down, down,” she continued, as she alighted from the buggy and the dog sprang upon her, trying to lick her face. “Please go right in; the door is open. I leave it so, with Nero. I must unharness my pony. I’m my own chore boy as well as maid,” she said to Fanny, who went into the cottage, followed by Nero, who, stretching himself upon the floor, whacked his big tail approvingly, as Fanny looked curiously around the room.