ot all else and rose to her
feet.

"I must telegraph to my father at once," she said hurriedly; "he is
there."

"You had better wait until the messenger returns and hear his news,"
said Emile. "If the shock was only a slight one in San Francisco, your
father might not understand you, and would be alarmed."

She could see his face now--there was no record of the past expression
upon it, but he was watching her eagerly. Mrs. Randolph and Adele had
moved away to speak to the servants. Emile drew nearer.

"You surely will not desert us now?" he said in a low voice.

"Please don't," she said vaguely. "I'm so worried," and, pushing quickly
past him, she hurriedly rejoined the two women.

They were superintending the erection of a long tent or marquee in the
garden, hastily extemporized from the awnings of the veranda and other
cloth. Mrs. Randolph explained that, although all danger was over, there
was the possibility of the recurrence of lighter shocks during the day
and night, and that they would all feel much more secure and comfortable
to camp out for the next twenty-four hours in the open air.

"Only imagine you're picnicking, and you'll enjoy it as most people
usually enjoy those horrid al fresco entertainments. I don't believe
there's the slightest real necessity for it, but," she added in a lower
voice, "the Irish and Chinese servants are so demoralized now, they
wouldn't stay indoors with us. It's a common practice here, I believe,
for a day or two after the shock, and it gives time to put things right
again and clear up. The old, one-storied, Spanish houses with walls
three feet thick, and built round a courtyard or patio, were much safer.
It's only when the Americans try to improve upon the old order of things
with their pinchbeck shams and stucco that Providence interferes like
this to punish them."

It was the fact, however, that Rose was more impressed by what seemed to
her the absolute indifference of Providence in the matter, and the cool
resumption by Nature of her ordinary conditions. The sky above their
heads was as rigidly blue as ever, and as smilingly monotonous; the
distant prospect, with its clear, well-known silhouettes, had not
changed; the crows swung on lazy, deliberate wings over the grain as
before; and the trade-wind was again blowing in its quiet persistency.
And yet she knew that something had happened that would never again make
her enjoyment of the prospect the same--that nothing wo