ugh-and-Ready Record," and,
having been her fellow-passenger from Sacramento, had already once or
twice availed himself of her father's invitation to call upon them.
Mrs. Mulrady had not discouraged this mild flirtation. Whether she
wished to disconcert Don Caesar for some occult purpose, or whether,
like the rest of her sex, she had an overweening confidence in the
unheroic, unseductive, and purely platonic character of masculine
humor, did not appear.

"When I say I'm sorry you are going to leave us, Miss Mulrady," said
the young fellow, lightly, "you will comprehend my unselfishness, since
I frankly admit your departure would be a positive relief to me as an
editor and a man. The pressure in the Poet's Corner of the 'Record'
since it was mistakingly discovered that a person of your name might be
induced to seek the 'glade' and 'shade' without being 'afraid,'
'dismayed,' or 'betrayed,' has been something enormous, and,
unfortunately, I am debarred from rejecting anything, on the just
ground that I am myself an interested admirer."

"It's dreadful to be placarded around the country by one's own full
name, isn't it?" said Mamie, without, however, expressing much horror
in her face.

"They think it much more respectful than to call you 'Mamie,'" he
responded, lightly; "and many of your admirers are middle-aged men,
with a mediaeval style of compliment. I've discovered that amatory
versifying wasn't entirely a youthful passion. Colonel Cash is about
as fatal with a couplet as with a double-barreled gun, and scatters as
terribly. Judge Butts and Dr. Wilson have both discerned the
resemblance of your gifts to those of Venus, and their own to Apollo.
But don't undervalue those tributes, Miss Mulrady," he added, more
seriously. "You'll have thousands of admirers where you are going; but
you'll be willing to admit in the end, I think, that none were more
honest and respectful than your subjects at Rough-and-Ready and Red
Dog." He stopped, and added in a graver tone, "Does Don Caesar write
poetry?"

"He has something better to do," said the young lady, pertly.

"I can easily imagine that," he returned, mischievously; "it must be a
pallid substitute for other opportunities."

"What did you come here for?" she asked, suddenly.

"To see you."

"Nonsense! You know what I mean. Why did you ever leave Sacramento to
come here? I should think it would suit you so much better than this
place."

"I suppose I was fi