"There we are," she said.
It was a tall clump of trees through which broke the outlines of a two-storied house larger than any the doctor had seen in the mountain-desert; and outside the trees lay long sheds, a great barn, and a wide-spread wilderness of corrals.

It struck the doctor with its apparently limitless capacity for housing man and beast.

Coming in contrast with the rock-strewn desolation of the plains, this was a great establishment; the doctor had ridden out with a waif of the desert and she had turned into a princess at a stroke.

Then, for the first time since they left Elkhead, he remembered with a start that he was to care for a sick man in that house.
"You were to tell me," he said, "something about the sickness of your father--the background behind his condition.

But we've both forgotten about it." "I have been thinking how I could describe it, every moment of the ride," she answered.