The words themselves sounded to Lady Theobald like the most outrageous
impudence; but when she looked at the pretty, lovelock-shaded face, she
was staggered the look it wore was such a very innocent and undisturbed
one. At the moment, the only solution to be reached seemed to be that
this was the style of young people in Nevada, and that it was ignorance
and not insolence she had to do battle with--which, indeed, was
partially true.

"I have not had any occasion to inquire where it is situated, so far,"
she responded firmly. "It is not so necessary for English people to know
America as it is for Americans to know England."

"Isn't it?" said Octavia, without any great show of interest. "Why not?"

"For--for a great many reasons it would be fatiguing to explain," she
answered courageously. "How is your father?"

"He is very sea-sick now," was the smiling answer,--"deadly sea-sick. He
has been out just twenty-four hours."

"Out? What does that mean?"

"Out on the Atlantic. He was called back suddenly, and obliged to leave
me. That is why I came here alone."

"Pray do come into the parlor, and sit down, dear Lady Theobald,"
ventured Miss Belinda. "Octavia"--

"Don't you think it is nicer out here?" said Octavia.