e. And then there was such an odd
sadness in his eyes.

"Are you anxious for your folks' coming?" she said at last, following
his outlook.

"I--oh no!" he returned, quickly recalling himself, "they'll be sure to
come--sooner or later. No fear of that," he added, half smilingly, half
wearily.

Mrs. Bunker passed into the kitchen, where, while apparently attending
to her household duties, she could still observe her singular guest.
Left alone, he seated himself mechanically in the chair, and gazed
fixedly at the fireplace. He remained a long time so quiet and unmoved,
in spite of the marked ostentatious clatter Mrs. Bunker found it
necessary to make with her dishes, that an odd fancy that he was
scarcely a human visitant began to take possession of her. Yet she was
not frightened. She remembered distinctly afterwards that, far from
having any concern for herself, she was only moved by a strange and
vague admiration of him.

But her prolonged scrutiny was not without effect. Suddenly he raised
his dark eyes, and she felt them pierce the obscurity of her kitchen
with a quick, suspicious, impatient penetration, which as they met hers
gave way, however, to a look that she thought was gently reproachful.
Then he rose, stretched himself to his full height, and approaching the
kitchen door leaned listlessly against the door-post.

"I don't suppose you are ever lonely here?"

"No, sir."

"Of course not. You have yourself and husband. Nobody interferes with
you. You are contented and happy together."

Mrs. Bunker did not say, what was the fact, that she had never before
connected the sole companionship of her husband with her happiness.
Perhaps it had never occurred to her until that moment how little it had
to do with it. She only smiled gratefully at the change in her guest's
abstraction.

"Do you often go to San Francisco?" he continued.

"I have never been there at all. Some day I expect we will go there to
live."

"I wouldn't advise you to," he said, looking at her gravely. "I don't
think it will pay you. You'll never be happy there as here. You'll never
have the independence and freedom you have here. You'll never be
your own mistress again. But how does it happen you never were in San
Francisco?" he said suddenly.

If he would not talk of himself, here at least was a chance for Mrs.
Bunker to say something. She related how her family had emigrated from
Kansas across the plains and had taken up a "location"