lders,
saving their scowls for those who were not the fashion. Sometimes these
flirtations took place in the open ball-room, sometimes in the
conservatory; it was all one to Helena, whose powers of concentration
amounted to genius. At one of the Presidio hops she spent the
evening--it was moonlight--in a boat on the bay with an officer who was
as accomplished a flirt as herself. The appearance of Rush, Fort,
Howard, and Webster upon this occasion was pitiable. On her evening, if
she tired of her admirers before they could reasonably be expected to
leave, she walked out of the room without excuse and went to bed. She
not only ran to fires when the humour seized her, but she commanded her
quartette to rush every time the alarm sounded, that they might be at
her beck in the event of officious policemen. As fires are frequent in
San Francisco, these enamoured young men were profoundly thankful when
they occurred at such times as they happened to be in their tyrant's
presence: they were willing to bundle into their clothes at two in the
morning, or to leave their duties at midday, were they sure of meeting
her; but as she was as capricious about fires as about everything else,
their chances were as one in ten. They hinted once that she might advise
them of her pleasure by telephone, but were peremptorily snubbed. Helena
never made concessions.

It was at the end of the second month that her father imported a coach
from New York. She had driven since her baby days, and could handle four
horses as scientifically as one. Thereafter, one of the sights of Golden
Gate Park on fine afternoons was Helena on the box of the huge black and
yellow structure, tooling a party of her delighted friends, her father
beside her, one of her admirers crouched at her indifferent shoulder. It
was the only gentleman's coach in California, for in the Eighties the
youth of the city had not turned their wits and prowess to sport. Few of
them could drive with either grace or assurance, and Helena's
accomplishment was the more renowned. Occasionally Colonel Belmont was
allowed to drive, a favour which he enjoyed with all the keenness of his
dashing youth.

"I told you how it would be," said Ila to Rose. "She is not only belle,
but leader. That's the real reason Caro's gone to New York. We are
nowhere. I'd turn eccentric, regularly shock people, if I had the good
luck to be the fashion. But I've got to marry well. When I have--you'll
see."

"We can't