after each of her balls,--reaction," said Rose.

"I don't think that it is nice for us to be discussing people at their
very doorstep," said Tiny. "I just thought I'd mention my plan. And if
it succeeded, and all took charge, as it were, there need be no
stiffness in an informal party in the country. Shall we get out?"

"By all means, General Tom Thumb," said Rose, with some ire; "it is very
plain who is to be boss in this community, as Mrs. Washington would
say."

"Wait till Helena comes," whispered Ila.

XXIV

Don Roberto rose as they approached. He did not take off his skull-cap,
but he received them with the courtly grace of the caballero, one of his
inheritances which he had not permanently discarded, although he
practised what he was pleased to call his American manners in the
sanctity of his home.

He bowed low, kissed their finger-tips, and handed them in turn to the
chairs which he first arranged in a semi-circle about his own. When he
resumed his former half-reclining attitude he had the air of an invalid
sultan holding audience.

"We are _so_ sorry that you have _such_ a dreadful cold," said Tiny,
with her sweetest smile and emphasis; "and _so_ glad that we happened to
drive up. You couldn't come for a drive with us, could you? We should
_love_ to have you."

Don Roberto rose to the bait at once. He was as susceptible to the
blandishments of pretty women as Jack Belmont, although their influence
over his purse was an independent matter.

"Very glad I am that I have the cold," he answered gallantly; "for it
give me the company of three so beautiful ladies. I no can go for drive,
for it blow, perhaps; but I no care, so long as you here with me sit."

"Well, we are going to stay a _long_ time; and we are _so_ glad we are
back in Menlo again,--so many of us together. We used to love so to come
here; it seems _ages_ ago. And now that we have got 'Lena again, you
must expect us to fairly overrun the house."

"It is yours," said Don Roberto, in the old vernacular. "Burn it if you
will."

Tiny, who had never heard even an anecdote of the early Californians,
gave a quick glance at the whiskey flask, but replied undauntedly,--

"How gallant you are, Don Roberto! The young men say such stupid things.
But you _always_ were so original!"

"Poor old dear, I feel like wiping it off," whispered Rose to Ila.

But it was evident that Don Roberto's vision was powdered with the
golden dust of flatter