g it."

"If the fashion has changed I dare say it is these men that have changed
it. I always bow to feminine logic, but nothing you have said so far has
changed my attitude. Besides, I admire their taste. This is the only
part of America that has made any appeal to me, and there is no question
that if they force through the Burnham plans, this city, with its
wonderful natural advantages, will be as beautiful as ancient Athens.
Surely you must admit ideality in men that can conceive such an ideal
and cling to it, no matter how forlorn the hope."

"That's just what I object to. The least imaginative of us realizes that
nature gave San Francisco a beautiful face and that man has done all he
could to scar it. But even did these men obtain control--which they
can't short of lynch law--it would take half a century to remove the old
city piecemeal. Do you imagine property-owners are going to change their
natures and sacrifice profitable office buildings and shops for the sake
of widening streets and making boulevards and parks? Do you realize what
it would mean in the way of individual sacrifice to build winding roads
about these hills instead of the improved and perpendicular gullies we
have to-day? Not even your own would do it. They merely dream and talk,
although, no doubt, they would make all the changes that promised large
personal profits. I suspect that the secret of their zeal is the desire
to deflect the tourist tide from south to north."

Gwynne laughed. He was a stubborn idealist, and having found something
at last to admire he purposed to hug it. "You belong to the pessimistic
camp. I discovered that when you honored Old Inn. And I have lived here
long enough to learn that it is full enough. But you are all different
from other Americans, and for that reason I find the most discontented
of you interesting."

But Miss Montgomery suspected that he was quizzing her and would not be
drawn further. Instead, she proposed a walk, and Gwynne in his turn
suggested that they go over and look at his property, which he had
visited once only. Miss Montgomery knew the history of every house old
and new, and told them many anecdotes as they walked down the steep
hills or along the cross streets to Kearney, at the base. The new houses
had fine gardens, the old ones were gloomy with eucalypti, or ragged
with palms, but everywhere were flowers, even at this season, giving an
immediate relief to the eye from the long dull perspe