and—­But he took it away quite rudely; and when I complained, the conductor wouldn’t attend to what I—­“); and the bad piece of beefsteak which had been brought for her breakfast at the eating-station.  Katy soothed and comforted to the best of her ability, and then plunged into her subject, explaining Phil’s very delicate condition and the necessity for constant watchfulness on the part of Clover, and saying most distinctly and in the plainest of English that Mrs. Watson must not expect Clover to take care of her too.  The old lady was not in the least offended; but her replies were so incoherent that Katy was not sure that she understood the matter any better for the explanation.

“Certainly, my dear, certainly.  Your brother doesn’t appear so very sick; but he must be looked after, of course.  Boys always ought to be.  I’ll remind your sister if she seems to be forgetting anything.  I hope I shall keep well myself, so as not to be a worry to her.  And we can take little excursions together, I dare say—­Girls always like to go, and of course an older person—­Oh, no, your brother won’t need her so much as you think.  He seems pretty strong to me, and—­You mustn’t worry about them, Mrs. Worthing—­We shall all get on very well, I’m sure, provided I don’t break down, and I guess I sha’n’t, though they say almost every one does in this air.  Why, we shall be as high up as the top of Mount Washington.”

Katy went back to Forty-seven in despair, to comfort herself with a long confidential chat with Clover in which she exhorted her not to let herself be imposed upon.

“Be good to her, and make her as happy as you can, but don’t feel bound to wait on her, and run her errands.  I am sure papa would not wish it; and it will half kill you if you attempt it.  Phil, till he gets stronger, is all you can manage.  You not only have to nurse him, you know, but to keep him happy.  It’s so bad for him to mope.  You want all your time to read with him, and take walks and drives; that is, if there are any carriages at St. Helen’s.  Don’t let Mrs. Watson seize upon you, Clover.  I’m awfully afraid that she means to, and I can see that she is a real old woman of the sea.  Once she gets on your back you will never be able to throw her off.”

“She shall not get on my back,” said Clover, straightening her small figure; “but doesn’t it seem unnecessary that I should have an old woman of the sea to grapple with as well as Phil?”

“Provoking things are apt to seem unnecessary, I fancy.  You mustn’t let yourself get worried, dear Clovy.  The old lady means kindly enough, I think, only she’s naturally tiresome, and has become helpless from habit.  Be nice to her, but hold your own.  Self-preservation is the first law of Nature.”

Just at dusk the train reached Denver, and the dreaded moment of parting came.  There were kisses and tearful good-byes, but not much time was allowed for either.  The last glimpse that Clover had of Katy was as the train moved away, when she put her head far out of the window of Car Forty-seven to kiss her hand once more, and call back, in a tone oracular and solemn enough to suit King Charles the First, his own admonitory word, “Remember!”