"Your brother will be as strong, or stronger than I at the end of a year,"
she said; "or if he doesn't get well as fast as he ought, you must take
him up to the Ute Valley. That's where I made my first gain."
"Where is the valley?"
"Thirty miles away to the northwest,--up there among the mountains. It is
a great deal higher than this, and such a lovely peaceful place. I hope
you'll go there."
"We shall, of course, if Phil needs it; but I like St. Helen's so much
that I would rather stay here if we can."
Dinner was now announced, and Mrs. Hope led the way into a pretty room
hung with engravings and old plates after the modern fashion, where a
white-spread table stood decorated with wild-flowers, candle-sticks with
little red-shaded tapers, and a pyramid of plums and apricots. There was
the usual succession of soup and fish and roast and salad which one looks
for at a dinner on the sea-level, winding up with ice-cream of a highly
civilized description, but Clover could scarcely eat for wondering how all
these things had come there so soon, so very soon. It seemed like
magic,--one minute the solemn peaks and passes, the prairie-dogs and the
thorny plain, the next all these portieres and rugs and etchings and down
pillows and pretty devices in glass and china, as if some enchanter's wand
had tapped the wilderness, and hey, presto! modern civilization had sprung
up like Jonah's gourd all in a minute, or like the palace which Aladdin
summoned into being in a single night for the occupation of the Princess
of China, by the rubbing of his wonderful lamp.
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