Vivian agreed with him. She never would be again, she said to herself, as they left the garden and went back down the trail to Siwash and the ford. Carver was not there, and the ranger insisted upon walking home with her. He would not have stayed for supper had not Virginia and Aunt Nan, meeting them at the mail-box, persuaded him. So it was a very merry party that ate supper beneath the cottonwoods--a party saddened only by the early good-night of the Cinnamon Creek ranger, who wanted to make his mountain cabin before darkness quite obliterated the trail. As he swung into the main road after some cordial handshakes which warmed his heart, he met Carver Standish III. It was too nearly dark for Carver to see the fraternity pin, and no one had yet told him that the ranger was from New England. Nevertheless, he straightened his shoulders, and held out his hand. "I've wanted to see you, sir," he said, "to tell you that I was an awful cad last night, and that I'm dead ashamed of it!" CHAPTER XVII THE WINTHROP COAT-OF-ARMS Priscilla, sitting under the biggest cottonwood, was writing to Miss Wallace, in her best handwriting, on her best stationery, in her best style. One unconsciously brought forth the best she had for Miss Wallace. She was telling of the Emperor and of the Cinnamon Creek ranger, sure that Miss Wallace would be glad to add both to her collection of interesting people. Interruptions were many. Carver, moody and silent, rode over, looking for entertainment, and she did her best; Vivian, having reached a halt in her daily Latin review, asked assistance; little David, Alec's adorable son, had come over with his mother for the afternoon, and Priscilla found him irresistible; and at last Donald, riding homeward, hot and tired from working on the range, had stopped for rest and refreshment. With Hannah's help Priscilla had provided the refreshment, and the ground beneath the cottonwood was giving the rest. "Some stationery!" said Donald, raising himself on his elbow to look at the pile of sheets which Priscilla had placed in readiness on the grass. "A shield and an eagle and a lion and a unicorn all at once, to say nothing of Latin. What does it say? '_Courage--my----_'" "_Courage is my heritage_," translated Priscilla proudly. "It's our family coat-of-arms, and that's the motto. We've had it for years and years, ever since the Wars of the Roses. A Winthrop was shield-bearer for Edward, Duke of York, and Grandfather used to say we could be traced back to the Norman Conquest." "I see," said Donald politely, but with something very like amusement in his blue eyes. "You New England folks are strong on crests and mottoes and that sort of thing, aren't you?"