off! When Joshua
thanked his wife for remembering the pepper-sauce, and Mrs. Rylands
pathetically admitted her forgetfulness, the head-toss which Jane
gave as she left the room was too marked to be overlooked by him. Mrs.
Rylands gave a hysterical little laugh. "I am afraid Jane doesn't like
my sending away the expressman just after I had also dismissed the
stranger whom she had taken a fancy to, and left her without company,"
she said unwisely.

Mr. Rylands did not laugh. "I reckon," he returned slowly, "that Jane
must feel kinder lonely; she bears all the burden of our bein' outer the
world, without any of our glory in the cause of it."

Nevertheless, when supper was over, and the pair were seated in the
sitting-room before the fire, this episode was forgotten. Mrs. Rylands
produced her husband's pipe and tobacco-pouch. He looked around the
formal walls and hesitated. He had been in the habit of smoking in the
kitchen.

"Why not here?" said Mrs. Rylands, with a sudden little note of
decision. "Why should we keep this room only for company that don't
come? I call it silly."

This struck Mr. Rylands as logical. Besides, undoubtedly the fire had
mellowed the room. After a puff or two he looked at his wife musingly.
"Couldn't you make yourself one of them cigarettys, as they call 'em?
Here's the tobacco, and I'll get you the paper."

"I COULD," she said tentatively. Then suddenly, "What made you think of
it? You never saw ME smoke!"

"No," said Rylands, "but that lady, your old friend, Miss Clifford,
does, and I thought you might be hankering after it."

"How do you know Tinkie Clifford smokes?" said Mrs. Rylands quickly.

"She lit a cigaretty that day she called."

"I hate it," said Mrs. Rylands shortly.

Mr. Rylands nodded approval, and puffed meditatively.

"Josh, have you seen that girl since?"

"No," said Joshua.

"Nor any other girl like her?"

"No," said Joshua wonderingly. "You see I only got to know her on your
account, Ellen, that she might see you."

"Well, don't you do it any more! None of 'em! Promise me!" She leaned
forward eagerly in her chair.

"But Ellen,"--her husband began gravely.

"I know what you're going to say, but they can't do me any good, and you
can't do them any good as you did ME, so there!"

Mr. Rylands was silent, and smiled meditatively.

"Josh!"

"Yes."

"When you met me that night on the Sacramento boat, and looked at me,
did you--did I," she hesitated,--"di