I know all about the table here and the drainage; and the view is desirable, and Mrs.Marsh, who keeps the house, is one of the best women we have.
She's from down your way too,--Barnstable, Mass., I think." Clover privately wondered how Barnstable, Mass., could be classed as "down" the same way with Burnet, not having learned as yet that to the soaring Western mind that insignificant fraction of the whole country known as "the East," means anywhere from Maine to Michigan, and that such trivial geographical differences as exist between the different sections seem scarcely worth consideration when compared with the vast spaces which lie beyond toward the setting sun.

But perhaps Dr.Hope was only trying to tease her, for he twinkled amusedly at her puzzled face as he went on,-- "I think you can make yourselves comfortable here.

It was the best I could do.

But your old lady would be much better suited at the Shoshone, and I wish she'd go there." Clover could not help laughing.

"I wish that people wouldn't persist in calling Mrs.Watson my old lady," she thought.
Mrs.Marsh, a pleasant-looking person, came to meet them as they entered.
She showed Clover and Phil their rooms, which had been secured for them, and then carried Mrs.Watson off to look at another which she could have if she liked.
The rooms were on the third floor.