knew that we listen to no rumors
here, no social scandals, or malignant lies; but we value people as we
find them. He meant this to be a haven for you; and so it shall be
if you will only rest; and you shall be the queen of it. Instead of
redressing his memory now, you would only distress his spirit. What does
he care for the world's gossip now? But he does care for your happiness.
I am not old enough to tell you things as I should like to tell them.
I wish I could--how I wish I could! It would make all the difference to
me."

"It would make no difference, Firm, to me; because I should know it was
selfishness. Not selfishness of yours, I mean, for you never could be
selfish; but the vilest selfishness of mine, the same as starved my
father. You can not see things as I see them, or else you would not
talk so. When you know that a thing is right, you do it. Can you tell me
otherwise? If you did, I should despise you."

"If you put it so, I can say no more. You will leave us forever, Erema?"

"No, not forever. If the good God wills it, I will come back when my
work is done. Forgive me, dear Firm, and forget me."

"There is nothing to forgive, Erema; but a great deal I never can hope
to forgot."

CHAPTER XVIII

OUT OF THE GOLDEN GATE

Little things, or what we call little, always will come in among great
ones, or at least among those which we call great. Before I passed the
Golden Gate in the clipper ship Bridal Veil (so called from one of the
Yosemite cascades) I found out what I had long wished to know--why Firm
had a crooked nose. At least, it could hardly be called crooked if any
body looked aright at it; but still it departed from the bold straight
line which nature must have meant for it, every thing else about him
being as straight as could be required. This subject had troubled me
more than once, though of course it had nothing whatever to do with the
point of view whence I regarded him.

Suan Isco could not tell me, neither could Martin of the mill; I
certainly could not ask Firm himself, as the Sawyer told me to do when
once I put the question, in despair, to him. But now, as we stood on the
wharf exchanging farewells, perhaps forever, and tears of anguish were
in my eyes, and my heart was both full and empty, ample and unexpected
light was thrown on the curvature of Firm's nose.

For a beautiful girl, of about my own age, and very nicely dressed,
came up and spoke to the Sawyer (who stood at my s