I suppose that is why I love him so
much--I mean I did love him, Mamma, because, of course, I don't now; I
am quite indifferent, as you know.
On our way back to lunch we took a drive round the city. There is not
a blade of living thing rowing but the sage brush. It is a desolation
beyond description, and clouds of dust. But everything seems alive
and there is no gloom or depression. The hotel was full of bustle and
movement, and groups of men were talking together as if some news had
come in, and the Senator presently told us that there had been rather a
row at the dance hall after we left, and the four villainous looking men
we had seen had "done a bit of shootin,'" but no one was hurt much,
and they had left to-day for no one knows where. He says this class of
desperadoes are like a pestilence; whenever they descend trouble of
sorts brews, and the chief of them is a man called Curly Grainger--the
"lowest yellow dog out of hell."
In the afternoon we paid some calls on the ladies who had dined with
us, and you can't think what dear little homes they have, looking like
chicken houses outside, and inside cosey and comfortable; and they were
all so kind and hospitable and made us feel welcomed and honoured.
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