"It must be the excitement of the country," she explained carefully to Mr.Penny, "so I'll just bide in the camp." "Indeed, you are wise for once in your life," said her Aunt Janet.
"As for me, I'm fair dune out.

With this hurly-burly of such terrible excitement I wonder I did not faint right off." "Hoots awa', Aunt Janet," said her niece, "it was no time for fainting, I'm thinking, with yon wolf in the tent beside ye." "Aye, lassie, you may well say so," said Aunt Janet, lapsing into her native tongue, into which in unguarded moments she was rather apt to fall, and which her niece truly loved to use, much to her Aunt's disgust, who considered it a form of vulgarity to be avoided with all care.
As the afternoon was wearing away, a wagon appeared in the distance.

The gentlemen were away from camp inspecting the progress of the work down the line.
"There's something coming yonder," said Miss Marjorie, whose eyes had often wandered down the trail that afternoon.
"Mercy on us! What can it be, and them all away," said her Aunt in distress.

"Put your saddle on and fly for your father or Mr.Harris.
I am terrified.

It is this awful country.