She was only a year or two younger than Mildred herself.
"I wish I could do what you can," said the painter of pictures.
"I--what?
I can't do anything like that." "No; but you can ride a horse, and stop runaway cows.

You can do a lot of things that I cannot do because you are stronger than I am.

I wish I had some of that rosy red in your cheeks." "You can have some of mine," laughed the other, "for I have more than enough; but you wouldn't like the freckles." "I wouldn't mind them, I'm sure; but let me thank you for what you did, and let's get acquainted." Mildred held out her hand, which the other took somewhat shyly.

"Don't you have to go home with your cows ?" "Yes, I guess so." "Then we'll go back together." She gathered her material and they walked on up the path, Mildred ahead, for she was timid of the horse which the other led by the bridle rein.

At the bars in the corner of the upper pasture the horse was turned loose into his own feeding ground, and the girls went on together.
"You live near here, don't you ?" inquired Mildred.
"Yes, just over there." "Oh, are you Carlia Duke ?" "Yes; how did you know ?" "Dorian has told me about you." "Has he?
We're neighbors; an' you're the girl that's visiting with the Trent's ?" "Yes." "Well, I'm glad to meet you.