ustomed circle of society, at the same
time that it suggested possible phases of great beauty, should it ever
become possible for certain emotions to be habitually called to the
surface by sympathy. Evidently a vein of drollery in his nature had been
better appreciated, and oftener exhibited to admiring audiences, than
any of the finer qualities of thought or sentiment of which you
instinctively knew him to be capable; and yet the face protested against
it, too, by a gentle irony with a hint of self-scorn in it, as if its
owner, in his own estimation, wrote himself a buffoon for his
condescension. Altogether it was a good face; but one to make you wish
it were better, since by not being so, it was untrue to itself. I
remember thinking all this, looking out with sluggish interest from my
berth, while the two gentlemen did a little preliminary talking.

Mr. Ela's voice, I observed, like his face, was susceptible of great
change and infinite modulations. Deep chest tones were followed by
finely attenuated sounds; droning nasal tones, by quick and clear ones.
The quality of the voice was soft and musical; the enunciation slow,
often emphatic. His manner was illustrative, egotistic, and keenly
watchful of effects.

"You never heard the story of my adventure in the mountains?" Ela began,
turning to me with the air of a man who had made up his mind to tell his
story.

"No; please tell it."

"Well"--running his tapering fingers through his hair and pulling it
over his forehead--"I started out in life with a theory, and it was
this: that no young man should ask a woman to marry him until he had
prepared a home for her. Correct, wasn't it? I was about nineteen years
old when I took up some land down in the Rogue River Valley, and worked
away at it with this object."

"Had you really a wife selected at that age?"

"No; but it was the fashion in early times in that country to marry
early, and I was getting ready, according to my theory; don't you see? I
was pretty successful, too; had considerable stock, built me a house,
made a flower garden for my wife, even put up the pegs or nails she was
to hang her dresses on. I intended that fall to get on my horse, ride
through the Wallamet Valley, and find me my girl."

At the notion of courting in that off-hand, general style, both my
husband and I laughed doubtingly. Ela laughed, too, but as if the
recollection pleased him.

"You think that is strange, do you? 'Twasn't so very