oved; and though his high-pitched voice never ceased to
shake her nerves, and his hard cold face to inspire active dislike, as
the years went on and she saw how it was with her people, she accepted
her lot with philosophy, and finally--as youth fled--with gratitude.
Mrs. Yorba she detested, but she loved the child she had saved to a life
of doubtful happiness, and--she had no children of her own--would gladly
have adopted her. She lived a life of retirement, and had a scanty
though kindly brain: therefore she never understood Magdalena as well as
Helena did at the age of six; but she could love warmly, and that meant
much to her niece.

The three large and aristocratically ugly mansions of Don Roberto Yorba,
Hiram Polk, and Colonel "Jack" Belmont stood side by side on Nob Hill.
Belmont was not as wealthy as the others, but a "palatial residence"
does not mean illimitable riches even yet in San Francisco. Belmont had
married a Boston girl of far greater family pretensions than Mrs.
Yorba's, but of no more stately appearance nor correct demeanour. The
two women were intimate friends until her husband's notorious
infidelities and erraticisms when under the periodical influence of
alcohol killed Mrs. Belmont. Neither Don Roberto nor Polk drank to
excess, and they kept their mistresses in more decent seclusion than is
the habit of the average San Franciscan. It would never occur to Mrs.
Yorba to suspect her husband or any other man of infidelity, did she
live in California an hundred years, and Mrs. Polk was too indifferent
to give the matter a thought.

Although she lived in retirement, rarely venturing out into the winds
and fogs of San Francisco, Mrs. Polk surrounded herself with all the
luxuries of a pampered woman of wealth and fashion. Her house was
magnificent, her private apartments almost stifling in their
sumptuousness. Polk squeezed every dollar before he parted with it, but
his wife had long since accomplished the judicious exercise of a violent
Spanish temper, and her bills were seldom disputed.

Magdalena and Helena loved these scented gorgeous apartments, and ran
through the connecting gardens daily to see her. Their delight was to
sit at her feet and listen to the tales of California when the grandee
owned the land, when the caballero, in gorgeous attire, sang at the
gratings of the beauties of Monterey. Mrs. Polk would sing these old
love-songs of Spain to the accompaniment of the guitar which had
entranc