all her life!"
Mr. Ashe hid a smile under his moustache. The fact that Blue Bonnet's own introduction to a Pullman car had occurred just nine months before, seemed to have escaped the young lady's mind.
"Well, well," ejaculated Blue Bonnet's uncle, "they've some experiences ahead of them, to be sure!"
"Oh, Uncle,"--Blue Bonnet was struck with a sudden fear,--"do you suppose they will all be ready to go? We're two whole days earlier than we said we'd be--"
"They'll be ready, don't you worry. Your grandmother is not one of the unprepared sort, and the girls don't need much of a wardrobe for the ranch. Besides, I wired them explicit directions--to meet The Wanderer and be ready to come aboard immediately. We shall have only a few minutes in Woodford."
Blue Bonnet settled back in her red velvet reclining chair and shut her eyes. Slowly a smile wreathed her lips.
"What's the joke, Honey?"
Blue Bonnet looked up with dancing eyes. "Benita!" she laughed. "Won't she be just--petrified, when she sees seven girls instead of one? And can't you imagine the boys--"
"Benita had better not get petrified this summer," interrupted Uncle Cliff. "She has to do some tall hustling. I've wired Uncle Joe to get extra help while the ranch party is in session. If they can get old Gertrudis from the Lone Star Ranch--she's the finest cook in the state of Texas. And her granddaughter might wait on table."
"Oh, I do think a ranch party is the grandest thing in the world," cried Blue Bonnet. "I've read of house parties, but they must be downright tame compared with this kind of a party. And it's not to last just over a week-end either, but two whole months! Why, Uncle Cliff, any ordinary man would be scared to pieces at the prospect."
"But I'm not an ordinary man, eh?" Mr. Ashe looked pleased as a boy as he put the question.
"Well, I reckon not! You're a fairy godfather. You grant my wishes before they're fairly out of my mouth. And I seem to have plenty of wishes. Just think, Uncle, how many things I've wished for since my last birthday!"
"First," said Uncle Cliff, "you wished to go away from the ranch."
Blue Bonnet nodded assent. "Because I was--afraid--to ride. Doesn't it seem ridiculous, now I'm over that silliness? But oh, how I did wish I could get over being afraid! That was about the only wish you couldn't grant, Uncle Cliff."
"That wish was never expressed, Honey--don't forget that. Maybe I could have helped even there," Mr. Ashe suggested gently.
"I know, it was my own fault. But I was--ashamed, Uncle Cliff. You don't suppose--" Blue Bonnet's face clouded, "you don't think, do you, that the fear will come again when I get back where I saw José--dragged?" She shut her eyes and shuddered.
"Nonsense, Honey. That fear died and was buried the day you rode Alec's horse, Victor. A good canter on Firefly over the Blue Bonnet country will make you wonder that such a feeling was ever born."
"Dear old Firefly! Won't I make it up to him though! Isn't it queer how many of my wishes have come true? It makes me feel almost--breathless. I no sooner got through wishing I could leave the ranch and go East and be with Grandmother--than I woke up in Woodford. And I wanted--thought I wanted--to be called Elizabeth. Blue Bonnet became Elizabeth!"
"A real lightning change artist," murmured Uncle Cliff.
"And I wanted to go to school. Granted. I wanted to know a lot of girls, and behold the We are Sevens!"
"And when was it you changed names again?" Uncle Cliff asked slyly.
"When I got tired of being Elizabethed. Everybody thinks Blue Bonnet suits me better, except Aunt Lucinda--on occasions."
"And the next wish? They're stacking up."
"I reckon it was about the Sargent prize in school. I wanted Alec Trent to win it--and he did. And next I wished to pass my school examinations--"
"And even that miracle was achieved!" said Uncle Cliff, pinching her cheek.
"And, finally, I wanted to go back to Texas, and, at the same time, I wished I didn't have to leave Grandmother and Alec and the girls. That might seem a contrary pair of wishes, but it doesn't daunt Godfather Ashe. He straightway makes a private car arise from--from what, Uncle Cliff?"
"Tobacco smoke," promptly supplied Mr. Ashe, with a reminiscent smile on his lips.
"Why tobacco smoke?" asked Blue Bonnet wonderingly.
"I taught Maldon to smoke when he was a young chap visiting out our way, and we've been friends ever since. The private car seems to have grown out of that," replied her uncle.
"I see," Blue Bonnet nodded. "But don't tell Aunt Lucinda,--I fancy she doesn't approve of smoking."
"So I've noticed," rather grimly rejoined Mr. Ashe. Blue Bonnet's prim New England aunt had not suffered him to remain long in ignorance of
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