“A band of brigands,” she laughed.  “Really, Karl, I think you’ll make a good chief for them.  There’s one thing certain, they’ll never let you patronize them.”

“I shan’t try,” declared Karl.  “They needn’t look to me for benefits of any sort.  I want miners.”

Honora chuckled pleasantly and looked at her cousin from the corner of her eye.  She had her own ideas about his ability to maintain such detachment.

He amused her a little later by telling her how he had formed a town government and he described the men he had appointed to office.

“They take it seriously, too,” he declared.  “We have a ragamuffin government and regulations that would commend themselves to the most judicious.  ’Pon my soul, Honora, though it’s only play, I swear some of these fellows begin to take on little affectations of self-respect.  We’re going to have a council meeting to-morrow.  You ought to come down.”

That gave Honora a cue.  She was wanting something more to do than to look after the house, now that servants had again been secured.  It occurred to her that it might be a good idea to call on the women down at Wander.  She was under no error as to their character.  Broken-down followers of weak men’s fortunes,—­some with the wedding ring and some without,—­they nevertheless were there, flesh and blood, and possibly heart and soul.  Not the ideal but the actual commended itself to her these days.  Kate had taught her that lesson.  So, quite simply, she went among them.

“Call on me when you want anything,” she said to them.  “I’m a woman who has seen trouble, and I’d like to be of use to any of you if trouble should come your way.  Anyhow, trouble or no trouble, let us be friends.”

In her simple dress, with her quiet, sad face and her deep eyes, she convinced them of sincerity as few women could have done.  They bade her enter their doors and sit in their sloven homes amid the broken things the Italians had left behind them.

“Why not start a furniture shop?” asked Honora.  “We could find some men here who could make plain furniture.  I’ll see Mr. Wander about it.”

That was a simple enough plan, and she had no trouble in carrying it out.  She got the women to cooperate with her in other ways.  Among them they cleaned up the town, set out some gardens, and began spending their men’s money for necessaries.

“Do watch out,” warned Karl; “you’ll get to be a Lady Bountiful—­”

“And you a benevolent magnate—­”

“Damned if I will!  Well, play with your hobo brides if you like, Honora, but don’t look for gratitude or rectitude or any beatitude.”

“Not I,” declared Honora.  “I’m only amusing myself.”