And then, just as the
fruit-plates were put on the table, came a call, and the doctor was out in
the hall, "holloing" and conducting with some distant patient one of those
mysterious telephonic conversations which to those who overhear seem all
replies and no questions. It was most remarkable, and quite unlike her
preconceived ideas of what was likely to take place at the base of the
Rocky Mountains.
A pleasant evening followed. "Poppy" played delightfully on the piano;
later came a rubber of whist. It was like home.
"Before these children go, let us settle about the drive," said Dr. Hope
to his wife.
"Oh, yes! Miss Carr--"
"Oh, please, won't you call me Clover?"
"Indeed I will,--Clover, then,--we want to take you for a good long drive
to-morrow, and show you something; but the trouble is, the doctor and I
are at variance as to what the something shall be. I want you to see
Odin's Garden; and the doctor insists that you ought to go to the Cheyenne
canyons first, because those are his favorites. Now, which shall it be? We
will leave it to you."
"But how can I choose? I don't know either of them. What a queer
name,--Odin's Garden!"
"I'll tell you how to settle it," cried Marian Chase, whose nickname it
seemed had been given her because when she first came to St. Helen's she
wore a bunch of poppies in her hat. "Take them to Cheyenne to-morrow; and
the next day--or Thursday--let me get up a picnic for Odin's Garden; just
a few of our special cronies,--the Allans and the Blanchards and Mary
Pelham and Will Amory.
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