being called away from a poker deal some night by
the infant, singing, 'Gardy, dear gardy, come home with me now, the
clock in the steeple strikes one!' And think of that old fool judge not
knowing you! Ha! ha!"

A study of Colonel Starbottle's face during this speech would have
puzzled a better physiognomist than Mr. Pyecroft. His first look of
astonishment gave way to an empurpled confusion, from which a single
short Silenus-like chuckle escaped, but this quickly changed again into
a dull coppery indignation, and, as Pyecroft's laugh continued, faded
out into a sallow rigidity in which his murky eyes alone seemed to keep
what was left of his previous high color. But what was more singular,
in spite of his enforced calm, something of his habitual old-fashioned
loftiness and oratorical exaltation appeared to be returning to him as
he placed his hand on his inflated breast and faced Pyceroft.

"The ignorance of the executor of Mrs. Stannard and the--er--probate
judge," he began slowly, "may be pardonable, Mr. Pyecroft, since his
Honor would imply that, although unknown to HIM personally, I am at
least amicus curiae in this question of--er--guardianship. But I am
grieved--indeed I may say shocked--Mr. Pyecroft, that the--er--last
sacred trust of a dying widow--perhaps the holiest trust that can
be conceived by man--the care and welfare of her helpless orphaned
girl--should be made the subject of mirth, sir, by yourself and the
members of the Sacramento bar! I shall not allude, sir, to my own
feelings in regard to Dick Stannard, one of my most cherished friends,"
continued the colonel, in a voice charged with emotion, "but I can
conceive of no nobler trust laid upon the altar of friendship than the
care and guidance of his orphaned girl! And if, as you tell me, the
utterly inadequate sum of three thousand dollars is all that is left for
her maintenance through life, the selection of a guardian sufficiently
devoted to the family to be willing to augment that pittance out of his
own means from time to time would seem to be most important."

Before the astounded Pyecroft could recover himself, Colonel Starbottle
leaned back in his chair, half closing his eyes, and abandoned himself,
quite after his old manner, to one of his dreamy reminiscences.

"Poor Dick Stannard! I have a vivid recollection, sir, of driving out
with him on the Shell Road at New Orleans in '54, and of his saying,
'Star'--the only man, sir, who ever abbr