ley, whence a short nine miles in the saddle brings you to Hutchings' Hotel.

can

Our equipment was simple-a single extra dress, a single change of clothes. There is a laundry in the valley, and it is better to have your clothes frequently washed than to burden yourself with unnecessary garments. Our things were packed in a small valise. All baggage goes down the trail in canvas sacks slung over a mule's back. If you carry a trunk you must pay for an extra mule. As I mentioned before, "Yo Semite suits be bought in the San Francisco shops. These are made of flannel or water-proof stuff, and comprise trowsers, a short skirt, and a loose shirt plaited in at the waist. They are very well adapted for the dust and rough usage of the valley. Still, I will mention, for the encouragement of any lady who does not care to burden herself with a special outfit for the excursion, that one of our party wore, in her traveling dress, a strong gray flannel, with cloak to match, rode on horseback in it for eight days, and, finally, brought it away in such respectable condition, that it answered for the return trip over the Pacific Railroad.

We made the trip to the valley in the public stages, and returned by a private carriage, and are therefore qualified to judge of the merits of both methods of travel. I should unhesitatingly recommend the private carriage. It does not (for a party) cost much more than the stages, and is greatly preferable, not only for its superior comfort, but for the greater freedom it allows with regard to hours of starting and stopping at night. The stages are run on an arbitrary system, which does not take into account the convenience of passengers. They leave generally by halfpast-four or five in the morning, lose two or three hours in halts in the course of the day, and by six P.M. deposit you at uncomfortable inns where you don't want to stop, while a few miles farther is a comfortable one where you would prefer to be. With a private carriage and driver many of these discomforts can be avoided.

There are agencies in San Fancisco where arrangements for private teams are made. But if we were going again we should manage thus: We should write or telegraph to either Boyd's or McLane's livery-stables in Sonora, for a carriage to meet us on a given day at Milton, specifying the number of seats and horses required, and that the wagon must be one with all the seats facing forward. The cost of such a wagon with two horses is fifteen dollars a day; with four horses, twenty

five.

horses.

A party of, say five, will require four

We should pay for the day spent in bringing the wagon down from Sonora to Milton,-for a day spent in going from Milton to the Calaveras Grove of Big Trees,-for a third day at the grove, towards the close of which, we should drive to Murphy's,-for a fourth, occupied in going from Murphy's to Garrote,— and for a fifth, from Garrote to Gentry's. The fourth day's ride would take us through Sonora, and (here is the great advantage in taking the carriage from that place instead of Stockton) we should there obtain fresh horses for which we had telegraphed the day before, and which would enable us to get through to the edge of the valley in two days. If, as many persons do, we stayed only four days in the valley, we should not send away the carriage, but let it await us at Gentry's, as we should have to pay for the four days it would consume in going and returning from Sonora. But we should stay more than four days. We should stay ten days, a fortnighta month if we could, and telegraph for the carriage to come up for us when we wanted it. it. Possibly a party might come along who wished to journey up in it, in which case, we should be saved fifty dollars. Getting back to the railroad via Chinese Camp would occupy two days more, and there would be still a third to be paid for, which the wagon would spend in getting back to its stable. the expense of the whole, for our party of five, would be $300-$60 apiece,—which, in the event of another party taking the carriage up from Sonora, would be reduced to $50 each,-the price of the journey by the regular stages.

So

Hotel expenses in the valley are three dollars a day. You pay also two dollars and a half per day for your horse. The party collectively pays five dollars a day for a guide. Of the beauty, the rewardfulness of the place, I cannot trust myself to speak in an article so brief and so practical as this. That another spot so exquisite exists on the face of this earth it is not easy to make those believe who have felt the spell of that perfect loveliness. And it is a beauty which does not fade from the memory, but remains always, stirring the heart with strong pathetic pleasure, like the recollection of a beloved and absent friend.

On the way home we spent a week on top of the Sierras, where a deep basin of transparent blue water, fringed with pine forests and watched over by snow peaks, has received the name of Lake Tahoe. This delightful spot ranks in our affections next to the Yo Semite.

CHAPTER X.

DURING the closing days of summer, I was surprised to meet in the street, walking alone, the maid who accompanied Mrs. Sanderson to the sea-side. She courtesied quite profoundly to me, after the manner of the time, and paused as though she wished to speak. "Well, Jane," I said, "how came you

here ?"

She colored, and her eyes flashed angrily as she replied: "Mrs. Sanderson sent me

home."

"If you are willing, I should like to have you tell me all about it," I said.

"It is all of a lady Mrs. Sanderson met at the hotel," she responded," a lady with a pretty face and fine manners, who is as poor as I am, I warrant ye. Mighty sly and quiet she was; and your aunt took to her from the first day. They walked together every day till Jenks came, and then they rode together, and she was always doing little things for your aunt, and at last they left me out entirely, so that I had nothing in the world to do but to sit and sew all day on just nothing .at all. The lady read to her, too, out of the newspapers and the books, in a very nice

way, and made herself agreeable with her pretty manners until it was nothing but Mrs. Belden in the morning, and Mrs. Belden at night, and Mrs. Belden all the time, and I told your aunt that I didn't think I was needed any more, and she took me up mighty short and said she didn't think I was, and that I could go home if I wished to; and I wouldn't stay a moment after that, but just packed up and came home in the next boat."

The disappointed and angry girl rattled off her story as if she had told it forty times to her forty friends, and learned it all by rote.

"I am sorry, Jane, that you have been disappointed," I responded, "but is my aunt well?"

"Just as well as she ever was in her life." "But how will she get home without you?" I inquired, quite willing to hear her talk farther.

"The same as she does now, faith. You may wager your eyes the lady will come with her. You never saw the like of the thickness there is between 'em."

"Is she old or young?" I inquired.

"Neither the one nor the other," she replied, "though I think she's older than she

looks. Oh, she's a sharp one-she's a sharp one ! You'll see her. There was a world of quiet talk going on between 'em, when I couldn't hear. They've been at it for more than a month, and it means something. I think she's after the old lady's money."

I laughed, and again telling Jane that I was sorry for her disappointment, and expressing the hope that it would all turn out well, parted with her.

Here was some news that gave me abundant food for reflection and conjecture. Not a breath of all this had come to me on the wings of the frequent missives that had reached me from Mrs. Sanderson's hand; but I had an unshaken faith in her discretion. The assurance that she was well was an assurance that she was quite able to take care of herself. It was natural that the maid should have been irate and jealous, and I did not permit her words to prejudice me against Mrs. Sanderson's new friend. Yet I was curious, and not quite comfortable, with the thought of her, and permitted my mind to frame and dwell upon the possible results of the new connection.

It was a week after this meeting, perhaps, that I received a note from Mrs. Sanderson, announcing the confirmation of her health, stating that she should bring a lady with her on her return to Bradford, and giving directions for the preparation of a room for her accommodation. It would not have been like my aunt to make explanations in a letter, so that I was not disappointed in finding

none.

At last I received a letter informing me that the mistress of The Mansion would return to her home on the following day. I was early at the wharf to meet her-so early that the steamer had but just showed her smoking chimneys far down the river. As the boat approached, I detected two female figures upon the hurricane deck which I was not long in concluding to be my aunt and her new friend. Jenks, in his impatience to get quickly on shore, had loosed his horse from the stall, and stood holding him by the bridle, near the carriage, upon the forward deck. He saw me and swung his hat, in token of his gladness that the long trial was

over.

The moment the boat touched the wharf I leaped on board, mounted to the deck, and, in an impulse of real gladness and gratitude, embraced my aunt. For a moment her companion was forgotten, and then Mrs. Sanderson turned and presented her. I did not at all wonder that she was agreeable to Mrs. VOL. VI.-3

Sanderson, for I am sure that no one could have looked into her face and received her greeting without being pleased with her. She was dressed plainly but with great neatness; and everything in her look and manner revealed the well-bred woman. The whole expression of her personality was one of refinement. She looked at me with a pleased and inquiring gaze which quite charmed me-a gaze that by some subtle influence inspired me to special courtesy toward her. When the carriage had been placed on shore, and had been made ready for the ride homeward, I found myself under the impulse to be as polite to her as to my aunt.

As I looked out among the loungers who always attended the arrival of the Belle, as a resort of idle amusement, I caught a glimpse of Henry. Our eyes met for an instant, and I detected a look of eager interest upon his face. My recognition seemed to quench the look at once, and he turned abruptly on his heel and walked away. was not like him to be among a company of idlers, and I knew that the arrival of Mrs, Sanderson could not have attracted him. It was an incident, however, of no significance save as it was interpreted by subsequent events which went for record...

It

1

Mrs. Sanderson was quite talkative on the way home, in pointing out to her new companion the objects of interest presented by the thriving little city, and when she entered her house seemed like her former self. She was like the captain of a ship who had returned from a short stay on shore, having left the mate in charge. All command and direction returned to her on the instant she placed her foot upon the threshold. was in excellent spirits, and seemed to look forward upon life more hopefully than she had done for a long time previously. Mrs. Belden was pleased with the house, delighted with her room, and charmed with all the surroundings of the place; and I could see that Mrs. Sanderson was more than satisfied. with the impression which her new friend had made upon me. I remember with how much interest I took her from window to window to show her the views which the house commanded, and how much she gratified me by her hearty appreciation of my courtesy and of the home to which circumstances had brought her.

I saw at once that she was a woman to whom I could yield my confidence, and who was wholly capable of understanding me and of giving me counsel. I saw, too, that the old home would become a very different place

to me from what it ever had been before, with her gracious womanliness within it. It was love with me at first sight, as it had been with my more critical aunt.

The next morning Mrs. Sanderson called me into her little library and told me the whole story of her new acquaintance. She had been attracted to her by some heartilyrendered courtesy when she found herself among strangers, feeble and alone, and had learned from her that she was without relations and a home of her own. They had long conversations, and were led, step by step, to a mutual revelation of personal wishes and needs, until it was understood between them that one was in want of a companion in her old age, and the other was in want of a home, for which she was willing to give service and society.

"I have come," said my aunt, "to realize that I am old, and that it is not right for me to stay in the house alone as I have done; and now that you are to be absent for so long a time, I shall need society and help. I am sure that Mrs. Belden is the right woman for

me.

Although she will be in a certain sense a dependent, she deserves and will occupy the place of a friend. I do not think I can be mistaken in her, and I believe that you will like her as well as I do."

I frankly told my aunt of the pleasant impression the lady had made upon me, and expressed my entire satisfaction with the arrangement; so Mrs. Belden became, in a day, a member of our home, and, by the ready adaptiveness of her nature, fitted into her new place and relations without a jar.

On the same day in which Mrs. Sanderson and I held our conversation, I found myself alone with Mrs. Belden, who led me to talk of myself, my plans, and my associates. I told her the history of my stay at the Bird's Nest, and talked at length of my companion there. She listened to all I had to say with interest, and questioned me particularly about Henry. She thought a young man's intimate companions had much to do with his safety and progress, and was glad to learn that my most intimate friend was all that he ought to be.

"You must never mention him to Mrs. Sanderson," I said, "for he offended her by not accepting her invitation to spend his vacation with me."

"I shall never do it, Arthur," she responded. "You can always rely upon my discretion."

"We are to be chums at college," I

said.

"I think so," I answered. "Indeed, I think they are very fond of one another."

Then, at the lady's request, I told her all about my sister-her beauty, her importance in my father's home, and her accomplishments. She listened with great interest, and said that she hoped she should make her acquaintance.

"If you are to be tied to my aunt in the society you meet here you will be pretty sure not to know her," I responded. "My father is Mrs. Sanderson's tenant, and she has very strict notions in regard to poor people, and especially in regard to those who occupy her houses. She has never invited a member of my family into her house, and she never will. She has been very kind to me, but she has her own way about it."

'Yes, I see, but I shall meet your sister in some way, I know, if I remain here," Mrs. Belden replied.

I had never seen Jenks so happy as he appeared the next day after his arrival. He had been elevated immensely by his voyage and adventures, and had benefited by the change quite as much as his mistress. He went about humming and growling to himself in the old way, seeking opportunities to pour into my amused ears the perils he had encountered and escaped. There had been a terrific "lurch" on one occasion, when everybody staggered; and a suspicious sail once "hove in sight" which turned out to be a schooner loaded with lumber; and there were white caps tossing on a reef which the captain skillfully avoided; and there was a tremenduous ground swell" during a portion of the homeward passage which he delighted to dwell upon.

66

But Jenks was in no way content until I had pointed out his passage to him on the map. When he comprehended the humiliating fact that he had sailed only half an inch on the largest map of the region he possessed, and that on the map of the world the river by which he passed to the sea was