But Mary's call was never made, for an hour later Mr. Benjamin Jarvis rode in to announce with an air of mystery a barn-warming in his new building for that very evening. "It's short notice," he explained to those who had met his invitation with instantaneous and delighted acceptance, "it's short notice, but, when you come to think of it, there ain't much time left. You ladies go back East in less than a week, and the threshers may come any day, so I says to Allan this mornin' that seein' the floor was laid we hadn't better wait to get the windows in nor any finishin' touches. It will be a farewell party from Bear Canyon to you, Miss Mary, and a welcomin' one to the new teacher. I just rode past the school-house to see how she felt about to-night before invitin' the others. She's all set up an' settled in the pine grove next the school, ain't tired a mite, and says there's nothing like a neighborhood party to get a person acquainted." Mary repeated her appreciation as the second trustee, having announced the time of assembling and probable other guests, turned his horse's head homeward. Nor were the others slow to voice their own. Virginia was radiant. A real Wyoming barn-warming, she told Mr. Jarvis, seemed the final joy in their collection of summer treasures, and she could not be grateful enough for his hospitality toward her guests. Everybody for miles around would be there, she announced that evening as they hurried from supper to dress. All the people in the Canyon and the Valley, and even the forest rangers from Sagebrush Point and Cinnamon Creek. It would not be much like a Gordon dance or one at St. Helen's, but she knew they would enjoy it. Yes, she said in response to Priscilla's questions, it might really be quite like the one in _The Virginian_ where they had swapped the babies. Vivian, who had been burrowing in her closet for a stray blue satin slipper to match the gown spread upon her bed, was surprised a few moments later to see Virginia's dismayed face. "Oh, Vivian, dear," she cried, "I thought you'd understand about dressing. You really can't wear that, you know. Why, nobody will be dressed up like that! It's for everybody, you see--Dick and Mr. Crusoe and William and the men at Keiths'. They'll all come in flannel shirts and chaps, and they'd all feel so queer and awkward if we dressed as we would at school. A clean middy is what you want. I'm going to wear that. You see, it's so different out here, Vivian."