Yorba. He
understood the value of money and its management. And he was well past
the spendthrift age.

Don Roberto and Mr. Polk had discussed the matter between them; and
these two wily old judges of human nature had agreed that Trennahan must
become the guardian of their joint millions. Magdalena was her father's
only misgiving. Would a man with an exhaustive experience of beautiful
women be attracted into marriage by this ugly duckling? But Trennahan
had passed his youth. Perhaps, like himself, he would have come to the
conclusion that it was better to have a plain wife and leave beauty to
one's mistresses. He had not the slightest objection to Trennahan having
a separate establishment; in fact, he thought a man a fool who had not.

Little escaped his sharp eyes. He had noted Trennahan's interest in
Magdalena, the length of the morning ride, his daughter's sparkling eyes
at breakfast. Propinquity would do much; and the bait was dazzling, even
to a man of fortune.

He became aware that Magdalena was speaking.

"I have no habit; and Ila says that they intend to have riding parties."

"You can get one habit. Go up to-morrow and order one."

Magdalena felt a little dazed, and wondered if everything in her life
were changing.

"I hear wheels," she said after a moment. They were on the verandah on
the right of the house. She stood up and watched the bend of the drive.
"It is the Montgomery char-a-banc," she said, "and there are Mrs.
Cartright and Tiny and Ila and Rose. Shall you stay?"

"I stay. Bring them here to me. Tiny and Ila beautiful girls. Great
Scott! they know what they are about. Rose very pretty, too."

The char-a-banc drew up; and as its occupants did not alight, Magdalena
went down and stood beside it, shading her eyes with her hand.

"We have come to take you for a drive to the hills, 'Lena dear," said
Tiny. "Do come."

"Papa has a bad cold. I cannot leave--"

"Poor dear Don Roberto!" exclaimed Mrs. Cartright. "I will get out this
minute and speak to him. I know so many remedies for a cold,--blackberry
brandy, or currant wine, or inhaling burnt linen and drinking hot
water--" But she was halfway down the verandah by this time.

"Do you remember the last time we went to the hills?" asked Ila. "Helena
and Rose shrieked with such hilarity that the horses bolted."

"I can answer for myself," said Rose. "I may say that the memory was
burnt in with a slipper."

"I never was spanked," murmured Tin