And then, as he's your younger brother and we're supposed to be his affectionate nieces, you know, it would make HIM feel SO ridiculous!" "And if he were to KISS you," said Marie tragically, "and then turn out not to be him!" "So," continued Kitty, "you'd better take Cousin John, who was more in Uncle Sylvester's time, to represent the Past of the family, and perhaps Mr.Gunn"-- "To represent the future, I suppose ?" interrupted Gabriel in a wicked whisper.
"To represent a name that most men of the world in New York and San Francisco know," went on Kitty, without a blush.

"It would make recognition and introduction easier.

And take an extra fur with you, dear--not for HIM but for yourself.

I suppose he's lived so much in the open air as to laugh at our coddling." "I don't know about that," said her father thoughtfully; "the last telegram I have from him, en route, says he's half frozen, and wants a close carriage sent to the station." "Of course," said Marie impatiently, "you forget the poor creature comes from burning canyons and hot golden sands and perpetual sunshine." "Very well; but come along, Marie, and see how I've prepared his room," and as her father left the drawing-room Kitty carried off her old schoolfellow upstairs.
The room selected for the coming Sylvester had been one of the elaborate guest-chambers, but was now stripped of its more luxurious furniture and arranged with picturesque yet rural extravagance.

A few rare buffalo, bear, and panther skins were disposed over the bare floor, and even displayed gracefully over some elaborately rustic chairs.