e and pointing to a
paragraph. Paul took the paper. Certainly there was the plain
announcement among the arrivals of "His Excellency Paul Hathaway, Lord
Lieutenant-Governor of the Californias." A light flashed upon him.

"This is George's work. He and Colonel Pendleton were here with me
last night."

"Then you have seen the colonel already?" she said, with a scarcely
perceptible alteration of expression, which, however, struck Paul.

"Yes. I met him at the theatre last evening." He was about to plunge
into an animated description of the colonel's indignation, but checked
himself, he knew not why. But he was thankful the next moment that he
had.

"That accounts for everything," she said, lifting her pretty shoulders
with a slight shrug of weariness. "I had to put a step to George's
talking about ME three months ago,--his extravagance is something TOO
awful. And the colonel, who is completely in his hands,--trusting him
for everything, even the language,--doesn't see it."

"But he is extravagant in the praise of his friends only, and you
certainly justify all he can say."

She was taking off her hat, and stopped for a moment to look at him
thoughtfully, with the soft tendrils of her hair clinging to her
forehead. "Did the colonel talk much about me?"

"A great deal. In fact, I think we talked of nothing else. He has
told me of your triumphs and your victims; of your various campaigns
and your conquests. And yet I dare say he has not told me all--and I
am dying to hear more."

She had laid down her hat and unloosed a large bow of her mantle, but
stopped suddenly in the midst of it and sat down again.

"I wish you'd do something for me."

"You have only to name it."

"Well, drop all this kind of talk! Try to think of me as if I had just
come from California--or, better, as if you had never known anything of
me at all--and we met for the first time. You could, I dare say, make
yourself very agreeable to such a young lady who was willing to be
pleased--why not to me? I venture to say you have not ever troubled
yourself about me since we last met. No--hear me through--why, then,
should you wish to talk over what didn't concern you at the time?
Promise me you will stop this reminiscent gossip, and I promise you I
will not only not bore you with it, but take care that it is not
intruded upon you by others. Make yourself pleasant to me by talking
about yourself and your prospects--anything but ME--