introduced him to the Bishop and those Eastern clergymen as a
magnificent specimen of a young Californian. You forget what an occasion
you made of his coming to church on Sunday, and how you made him come in
his buckskin shirt and walk down the street with you after service!"

"Yes, yes," said the Rev. Mr. Wynn, hurriedly.

"And," continued Nellie carelessly, "how you made us sing out of the
same book 'Children of our Father's Fold,' and how you preached at him
until he actually got a color!"

"Yes," said her father; "but it wasn't known then he was an Injin, and
they are frightfully unpopular with those Southwestern men among whom we
labor. Indeed, I am quite convinced that when Brace said 'the only good
Indian was a dead one' his expression, though extravagant, perhaps,
really voiced the sentiments of the majority. It would be only kindness
to the unfortunate creature to warn him from exposing himself to their
rude but conscientious antagonism."

"Perhaps you'd better tell him, then, in your own popular way, which
they all seem to understand so well," responded the daughter. Mr. Wynn
cast a quick glance at her, but there was no trace of irony in her
face--nothing but a half-bored indifference as she walked toward the
window.

"I will go with you to the coach-office," said her father, who generally
gave these simple paternal duties the pronounced character of a public
Christian example.

"It's hardly worth while," replied Miss Nellie. "I've to stop at the
Watsons', at the foot of the hill, and ask after the baby; so I shall go
on to the Crossing and pick up the coach when it passes. Good-by."

Nevertheless, as soon as Nellie had departed, the Rev. Mr. Wynn
proceeded to the coach-office, and publicly grasping the hand of Yuba
Bill, the driver, commended his daughter to his care in the name of the
universal brotherhood of man and the Christian fraternity. Carried away
by his heartiness, he forgot his previous caution, and confided to
the expressman Miss Nellie's regrets that she was not to have that
gentleman's company. The result was that Miss Nellie found the coach
with its passengers awaiting her with uplifted hats and wreathed smiles
at the Crossing, and the box seat (from which an unfortunate stranger,
who had expensively paid for it, had been summarily ejected) at her
service beside Yuba Bill, who had thrown away his cigar and donned a new
pair of buckskin gloves to do her honor. But a more serious result t