The short journey to the house was made in profound silence.
The villa had been repainted and decorated, and it looked fresher, and even, to their preoccupied minds, appeared more attractive than ever.
Thoughtful hands had taken care of the vines and rose-bushes on the trellises; water--that precious element in Devil's Ford--had not been spared in keeping green through the long drought the plants which the girls had so tenderly nurtured.

It was the one oasis in which the summer still lingered; and yet a singular sense of loss came over the girls as they once more crossed its threshold.

It seemed no longer their own.
"Ef I was you, Miss Christie, I'd keep close to the house for a day or two, until--until--things is settled," said Dick; "there's a heap o' tramps and sich cattle trapsin' round.

P'raps you wouldn't feel so lonesome if you was nearer town--for instance, 'bout wher' you useter live." "In the dear old cabin," said Christie quickly; "I remember it; I wish we were there now." "Do you really?
Do you ?" said Whiskey Dick, with suddenly twinkling eyes.

"That's like you to say it.