pretty and young-looking, and had not finished the operation when a hotel
clerk appeared with a paper in his hand.

"Your name, please," he said to the small, unaccompanied person.

"My name is Sara Wilkins," she replied in a clear precise voice, which
matched her personality; "but I must tell you that I am _not_ a Native
Daughter, and have not engaged a room. I arrived at the same time with the
others, and when they are settled I hope you'll be able to find me
something; otherwise I hardly know what I shall do, as it's late, and I'm
travelling alone."

"I'm afraid I can do nothing for you, Madam, if you have not engaged,"
said the young man, civilly. "These ladies are expected, and a great many
will be sleeping three and four in a room. I'm sorry; but there are other
hotels in the town."

"I'm sorry too," said the lady in the dusty alpaca. "I've wanted for years
to stay in this hotel, if it was only for a few hours, as I've read so
much about it, and I arranged to stop off at Santa Barbara on purpose,
though I really ought to have gone on. And I'm _so_ tired!"

Angela could bear no more. "Oh, would you take my sitting-room?" she
asked, with the smile she had inherited with her heart and a few other
things from Franklin Merriam. "It would be such a shame to go away when
you've wanted to stop here--so late, too, and you mightn't get in anywhere
else. I shall be delighted--really--and I'm sure they can make you up a
comfortable bed, for there's a big lounge in the room."

Nick sat adoring her with his eyes, and Miss Dene believed that Mrs. May