Evelyn, who had never seen her brothers-in-law, looked upon them now in wonder, and she could see their appearance was somewhat of a surprise to Fred, who had not seen them for many years, and who remembered them only as the heroes of his childhood days.

They greeted Fred hilariously, but to his wife they spoke timidly, for, brave as they were in facing Spanish pirates, they were timid to the point of flight in the presence of women.

As they drove home in the high-boxed wagon, the twins endeavored to keep up the breezy enthusiasm that had characterized their letters.  They raved about the freedom of the West; they went into fresh raptures over the view, and almost deranged their respiratory organs in their praises of the air.  They breathed in deep breaths of the ambient atmosphere, chewed it up with loud smacks of enjoyment, and then blew it out, snorting like whales.  Evelyn, who was not without a sense of humor, would have enjoyed it all, and laughed at them, even if she could not laugh with them, if she could have forgotten that they were her husband’s brothers, but it is very hard to see the humorous in the grotesque behavior of those to whom we are “bound by the ties of duty,” if not affection.

A good supper at the Black Creek Stopping-House and the hearty hospitality of Mrs. Corbett restored Evelyn’s good spirits.  She noticed, too, that the twins tamed down perceptibly in Mrs. Corbett’s presence.

Mrs. Corbett insisted on Fred and his wife spending the night at the Stopping-House.

“Don’t go to your own house until morning,” she said.  “Things look a lot different when the sun is shining, and out here, you see, Mrs. Fred, we have to do without and forget so many things that we bank a lot on the sun.  You people who live in cities, you’ve got gas and big lamps, and I guess it doesn’t bother you much whether the sun rises or doesn’t rise, or what he does, you’re independent; but with us it is different.  The sun is the best thing we’ve got, and we go by him considerable.  Providence knows how it is with us, and lets us have lots of the sun, winter and summer.”

Evelyn gladly consented to stay.

Mrs. Corbett, observing Evelyn’s soft white hands, decided that she was not accustomed to work, and the wonder of how it would all turn out was heavy upon her kind Irish heart as she said goodbye to her next morning.

A big basket of bread and other provisions was put into the wagon at the last minute.  “Maybe your stove won’t be drawin’ just right at the first,” said Maggie Corbett, apologetically.  As she watched Evelyn’s hat of red roses fading in the distance she said softly to herself:  “Sure I do hope it’s true that He tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, tho’ there’s some that says that ain’t in the Bible at all.  But it sounds nice and kind anyway, and yon poor lamb needs all the help He can give her.  Him and me, we’ll have to do the best we can for her!”