career. As there appeared no trace or sign of jealousy in her
questioner's manner, she answered briefly but vaguely:

"Yes; it's a shocking story. His father disappeared some years
ago, and he has just found him--a helpless paralytic--in the
Sacramento Hospital. He'll have to support him--and they're very
poor."

"So, then, they are not independent of each other always--these
fathers and children of Americans!"

"No," said Mamie, shortly. Without knowing why, she felt inclined
to resent Don Caesar's manner. His serious gravity--gentle and
high-bred as it was, undoubtedly--was somewhat trying to her at
times, and seemed even more so after Slinn's irreverent humor. She
picked up her parasol, a little impatiently, as if to go.

But Don Caesar had already dismounted, and tied his horse to a tree
with a strong lariat that hung at his saddle-bow.

"Let us walk through the woods towards your home. I can return
alone for the horse when you shall dismiss me."

They turned in among the pines that, overcrowding the hollow, crept
partly up the side of the hill of Mulrady's shaft. A disused
trail, almost hidden by the waxen-hued yerba buena, led from the
highway, and finally lost itself in the undergrowth. It was a
lovers' walk; they were lovers, evidently, and yet the man was too
self-poised in his gravity, the young woman too conscious and
critical, to suggest an absorbing or oblivious passion.