Men have seen to that. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. At any moment, Cathy Beck could arrive home and see them, then he would be eating dinner with 6 them, almost whether he liked it or not. Two of these had been her particular intimates at the High School, and had done much to send her mind exploring beyond the limits of the available literature at home. I couldn’t help the thought. Stanley, whose family had been by any reckoning inconsiderable—to use the kindliest term.
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