riding habit. She was even more _becomingly_ dressed than any
woman in the room. Mrs. Abbott, who was given to primitive sounds,
snorted. Maria Ballinger, whose finely developed figure might as well
have been the trunk of a tree, sniffed. Her sister Sally almost
danced with excitement, and even Miss Hathaway straightened her
fichu. Mrs. Ballinger, who had been the belle of Richmond and was
still adjudged the handsomest woman in San Francisco, lifted the
eyebrows to which sonnets had been written with an air of haughty
resignation; but made up her mind to abate her scorn of the North and
order her gowns from New York hereafter.

But the San Franciscans on the whole were an amiable people and they
were sometimes conscious of their isolation; in a few moments they
felt a pleasant titillation of the nerves, as if the great world they
might never see again had sent them one of her most precious gifts.

They all met her in the course of the afternoon. She was sweet and
gracious, but although there was not a hint of embarrassment she made
no attempt to shine, and they liked her the better for that. The
young men soon discovered they could make no impression on this
lovely importation, for her eyes strayed constantly to her husband;
until he disappeared in search of cronies, whiskey, and a cigar: then
she looked depressed for a moment, but gave a still closer attention
to the women about her.

In love with her husband but a woman-of-the-world. Manners as fine
as Mrs. McLane's, but too aloof and sensitive to care for leadership.
She had made the grand tour in Europe, they discovered, and enjoyed a
season in Washington. She should continue to live at the Occidental
Hotel as her husband would be out so much at night and she was rather