We don't take much stock in Mrs. Grundy out here; but
I supposed you'd want another lady. How would it be if I asked Mrs. Hope?
The doctor's got to come out anyway to see one of our herders who's put
his shoulder out in a fall. If he would drive you out, and Mrs. Hope would
stay on, would you come for a week? I guess you'll like it."
"I 'guess' we should," exclaimed Clover, her face lighting up. "Clarence,
how delightful it sounds! It will be lovely to come if Mrs. Hope says
yes."
"Then that's all right," replied Clarence, looking extremely pleased.
"I'll ride up to the doctor's as soon as dinner's over."
"You'll dine with us, of course?"
"Oh, I always come to Mother Marsh for a bite whenever I stay over the
day. She likes to have me. We've been great chums ever since I had fever
here, and she took care of me."
Clover was amused at dinner to watch the cool deliberation with which
Clarence studied Mrs. Watson and her tortuous conversation, and, as he
would have expressed it, "took stock of her." The result was not
favorable, apparently.
"What on earth did they send that old thing with you for?" he asked as
soon as they went upstairs. "She's as much out of her element here as a
canary-bird would be in a cyclone. She can't be any use to you, Clover."
"Well, no; I don't think she is. It was a sort of mistake; I'll tell you
about it sometime. But she likes to imagine that she's taking care of me;
and as it does no harm, I let her.
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