"That's the way it was with me this morning," confided Virginia. "For just an instant I felt sorry. 'Twas the selfish part of me coming out. I didn't want any one to take a bigger piece of Aunt Nan's heart than mine. I didn't want to move over and make room for any one else--even Malcolm. But that mean, drab feeling lasted only a moment. It went right away, and now I'm glad, _glad--glad!_ If Grandmother Webster's only glad, too, there couldn't be any greater happiness in the world, could there, Pedro?" Pedro stopped feeding to look back at his mistress, and to shake his head. Virginia laughed. "You're the only friend I want to-day, Pedro," she said, her arms around his neck, "you and a big Something in my heart. I wanted to come away off up here alone with you. That's why I hurried you so, poor dear! I wanted to hear the stillness all around, and to look at the mountains. I wanted to think about it, and to wonder if, some day, after I've learned more things, it will come to me, too!" Impulsively she turned in her saddle and looked down the foot-hills. Some one was fording the creek. She knew it even before she heard the splash of water. As she watched, two riders left the ford, and turned north up the canyon trail. They were Malcolm and Aunt Nan. Virginia turned back toward the mountains, and sat very still. "Pedro," she said at last, her voice breaking, "I guess perhaps we'd better go home, don't you? Aunt Nan and Malcolm have found their trail, you see. They don't need us just now. No, I'm not sorry! I'm glad! I just _know_ it's the most wonderful thing in all the world!" CHAPTER XIV THE NEW SCHOOL-TEACHER IN BEAR CANYON "Yes, sir," said Mr. Samuel Wilson, stretching his boot-clad legs to their fullest extent, and twirling his thumbs thoughtfully, "yes, sir, we've got to have a teacher up in Bear Canyon. There ain't a bit o' use in waitin' a week for that teacher from Sheridan. Come December, there'll be snow, and school not out. Accordin' to my judgment, and I'm the chief trustee o' this district, it's best to get some one to teach a week until the one we've hired gets here. I stopped at Ben Jarvis' place on my way down here, and he agreed with me. Says he, 'Sam, there'd ought to be one out o' that crowd o' ladies over to Hunter's who could keep school a week. They're all raised around Boston, folks tell me. Now you go along over, and see.' And I said I would. What do you think, John? Ain't there a likely one among 'em? If Virginia didn't know the children so well, I'd be for choosin' her. But a stranger's what we want. That school seems to need a stranger 'bout every term."