nd ever since
the day he had first moved into it he had been anxious to move out. The
ladies of his family would not allow this, and so Barney endured his
grandeur as best he might. It was a great wooden house, with immense bay
windows thrown out on every side, and veiled within by long curtains of
heavy lace. The sweep of steps that spread so proudly from the portico
was flanked by two sleeping lions in stone, both appearing, by the
savage expressions which distorted their visages, to be suffering from
terrifying dreams. In the garden the spiked foliage of the dark, slender
dracaenas and the fringed fans of giant filamentosas grew luxuriantly
with tropical effect.

The large drawing-room, long, and looking longer with its wide mirrors,
was even more golden than Mrs. Delmonti's. There were gold moldings
about the mirrors and gold mountings to the chairs. In deserts of gold
frames appeared small oases of oil-painting. Faraday, hat in hand, stood
some time in wavering indecision, wondering in which of the brocaded and
gilded chairs he would look least like a king in an historical play. He
was about to decide in favor of a pale blue satin settee, when a rustle
behind him made him turn and behold Miss. Genevieve magnificent in a
trailing robe of the faintest rose-pink and pearls, with diamond
ear-rings in her ears, and the powder that she had hastily rubbed on her
face still lying white on her long lashes. She smiled her rare smile as
she greeted him, and sitting down in one of the golden chairs, leaned
her head against the back, and said, looking at him from under lowered
lids:

"Well, I thought you were never coming!"

Faraday, greatly encouraged by this friendly reception, made his
excuses, and set the conversation going. After the weather had been
exhausted, the topic of the Californian in his social aspect came up.
Faraday, with some timidity, ventured a question on the fashionable life
in San Francisco. A shade passed over Miss. Ryan's open countenance.

"You know, Mr. Faraday," she said, explanatorily, "I'm not exactly in
society."

"No?" murmured Faraday, mightily surprised, and wondering what she was
going to say next.

"Not exactly," continued Miss. Ryan, moistening her red under lip in a
pondering moment--"not exactly in fash'nable society. Of course we have
our friends. But gentlemen from the East that I've met have always been
so surprised when I told them that I didn't go out in the most
fash'nable cir