"I'm afraid it isn't going to work," she murmured aloud; for
Phoebe, having lived much of her life in the loneliness which the
West means to women, frequently talked to herself. "She's such a
nice little thing--but the boys don't take to her like I thought
they would. I don't see as she's having a mite of influence on
their manners, unless it's to make them act worse, just to shock
her. Clark USED to take off his hat when he come into the house
most every time. And great grief! Now he'd wear it and his chaps
and spurs to the table, if I didn't make him take them off.
She's nice--she's most too nice. I've got to give that girl a
good talking to."
She mounted the steps to the back porch, tried tho kitchen door,
and found it locked. She went around to the door on the west
side, opposite the gate, found that also secured upon the inside,
and passed grimly to the next.
"My grief! I didn't know any of these doors COULD be locked!" she
muttered angrily. "They never have been before that I ever heard
of.
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