t a
later incident caused him to remember it more seriously.

They had taken their usual stroll through the Alameda, and had made the
round of the shops, where the colonel had exhibited his usual liberality
of purchase and his exalted parental protection, and so had passed on to
their usual refreshment at the confectioner's, the usual ices and cakes
for Pansy, but this time--a concession also to the tyrant Pansy--a glass
of lemon soda and a biscuit for the colonel. He was coughing over his
unaccustomed beverage, and Pansy, her equanimity and volubility restored
by sweets, was chirruping at his side; the large saloon was filling up
with customers--mainly ladies and children, embarrassing to him as
the only man present, when suddenly Pansy's attention was diverted
by another arrival. It was a good-looking young woman, overdressed,
striking, and self-conscious, who, with an air of one who was in the
habit of challenging attention, affectedly seated herself with a male
companion at an empty table, and began to pull off an overtight glove.

"My!" said Pansy in admiring wonder, "ain't she fine?"

Colonel Starbottle looked up abstractedly, but at the first glance
his face flushed redly, deepened to a purple, and then became gray and
stern. He had recognized in the garish fair one Miss Flora Montague, the
"Western Star of Terpsichore and Song," with whom he had supped a few
days before at Sacramento. The lady was "on tour" with her "Combination
troupe."

The colonel leaned over and fixed his murky eyes on Pansy. "The room
is filling up; the place is stifling; I must--er--request you
to--er--hurry."

There was a change in the colonel's manner, which the quick-witted
child heeded. But she had not associated it with the entrance of the
strangers, and as she obediently gulped down her ice, she went on
innocently,--

"That fine lady's smilin' and lookin' over here. Seems to know you; so
does the man with her."

"I--er--must request you," said the colonel, with husky precision, "NOT
to look that way, but finish your--er--repast."

His tone was so decided that the child's lips pouted, but before she
could speak a shadow leaned over their table. It was the companion of
the "fine lady."

"Don't seem to see us, Colonel," he said with coarse familiarity, laying
his hand on the colonel's shoulder. "Florry wants to know what's up."

The colonel rose at the touch. "Tell her, sir," he said huskily, but
with slow deliberation, "th