“What do you think of the opera—are you enjoying it much?” asked Mr. Selden, by way of opening conversation, having turned his chair to face Mercedes.

“I am enjoying the novelty of the thing, but I don't know what I shall think of the opera. I suppose I shall like it better when I understand it. Thus far it is to me only a very puzzling maze of hastily uttered French, imperfectly heard and mixed with music, all of which is rather unintelligible to me, so unprepared to judge of it as I am,” said Mercedes, smiling, watching to see the effect that her candid avowal of ignorance would have upon such a “muscadin” and well traveled young man.

“Ah! you never saw the opera before to-night!”

“Not the French opera. I was at two matinees of the Italian opera about five years ago, when I left my San Francisco school. Mamma thought I was too young to go out at night, and since then I have been living at the rancho.”

“Yes, yes; Mr. Mechlin said you had not been in San Francisco since you were twelve months old.”

“Twelve months?”

A laugh immediately behind him, made Mr. Selden turn quickly around. He met the eyes of Mr. Robert Gunther, who had taken the chair next to him, and made no secret of being amused at Mr. Selden's mistake.

“What are you laughing at?” Mr. Selden asked, sharply.

“I suppose Mr. Gunther thinks that girls must grow very quickly in California if I was twelve months old five years ago.”

Mr. Selden could not escape now the raillery of his friends. Each one had something to say on the subject of Mr. Selden's ideas of the wonders of California, until the bell rung for the curtain to rise for the second act.

They all arose to go. George said: “Will not some of you remain? there is room for two or three more.”

“If I am not going to crowd you, I shall accept your kind invitation and hide about here,” said Robert Gunther, taking a chair behind Elvira.

“Bob Gunther is always such a good boy that I always like to follow his example; so, with your kind permission, Mr. Darrell, I shall sit here behind you. Keep your chair,” said Mr. Selden, refusing to change seats with Clarence.

But Mercedes saw that this arrangement was not as satisfactory as might be, so she moved her chair, and making room for Clarence on her left, told Mr. Selden to push his chair further to the front, on her right. This was a more desirable distribution, and it pleased Clarence better, for she would turn her face to him on looking at the stage. Still, there was that odious little fellow with his red mutton chops sitting so near her, that he wanted to pitch him out of the box. Mercedes watched for an opportunity to say to him:

“You look unhappy; have I done anything to displease you?”

“No, never!” he quickly answered, but did not dare to look at her. Presently he added: “It is too painful to think that only for one day more I can see you, then we must part, and—and others will be with you.”

“Could you not go with us as far as the Yosemite?”

Clarence turned quickly to look at her, and her eyes had that sweet, loving expression which, to him, was always irresistible, entrancing. He had never seen it in any other eyes, and in hers only very seldom.

“Oh! if you will only let me.”

“Let you! Your pleasure is the only thing to consult.”

“Then I know what I shall do.”

Neither Mr. Selden nor Mr. Gunther could sleep that night. Those little golden curls over the blue eyes floated in a hazy mist and music in tantalizing recurrence until dawn.

“Did you make a satisfactory bargain?” George asked Clarence next morning, when the ladies had gone to church.

“Yes, as far as we can see at present. I am to send an expert to look at the mines to-morrow, and on his report will decide what to do. But I am in a quandary now about one thing. Have you positively decided to leave to-morrow at seven A.M.?”

“If we don't oversleep ourselves,” was George's reply. “But that depends. Why do you ask? If by waiting a few days we can have your company further on, we will wait, of course. The girls are enjoying themselves very much, and will be glad to wait for you.”

“Thanks, thanks,” said Clarence, warmly. “Yes, I would like to go as far as the Yosemite with you; but as I would like to have one final talk with the miners to-morrow before I pay them any money, I would be much obliged if you could wait until Tuesday morning.”

“Most willingly, my dear fellow, particularly as these seÑoritas are not in a hurry to leave fascinating San Francisco.”

“We have not driven anywhere around the city, and Miss Mercedes wishes to see more of San Francisco,” said Clarence, “as she has not seen it since she was twelve months old.”

“Poor Selden; those fellows will never cease laughing at his mistake,” George said.

After mass, our travelers went immediately to luncheon. At their table were already seated the six New Yorkers, but four chairs were carefully turned, in token of being reserved. Clarence sat next to Mercedes, but Selden was opposite, and anxiously expected the moment when she would lift her veil. He dreaded to be disenchanted by finding her to be less beautiful in daylight, but such was not the case. She appeared to him even prettier, seeing better the lovely dark blue of her eyes. He looked at her in silence, saying to himself mentally: “She is exquisite; am I going to love her hopelessly!” And he looked at Clarence with a pang of jealousy, for he could not deny to himself that he was handsome, yes, beautiful as an Apollo, and very manly.

Next to Selden sat Robert Gunther, making almost the same mental observations, and resolving to try and win her in spite of all obstacles.

Luncheon was much enjoyed by all excepting Mr. Selden, who seemed to get more and more nervous as he sat there trying not to look at Mercedes as much as he wished.

The Gunther brothers were very brilliant conversationalists, and so was George, who was in his element in the company of such polished gentlemen as were now before him. On leaving the table, Mr. Charles Gunther begged Elvira's permission to pay their respects, asking if it would suit her convenience for them to call that evening after dinner, to which she gracefully assented, and all walked towards the parlor.

“Shall we go to the Cliff House this afternoon?” George asked his wife.

“You may, but Mercedes and I are going to vespers,” she replied, and soon after the two sisters retired to their rooms.

As all of the gentlemen walked down to the reading room, Selden said: “And how in thunder are we going to kill time this afternoon until dinner? It will be intensely stupid here.”

“I thought we all were going to drive to the Cliff,” Bob Gunther said, maliciously. “Perhaps you would rather go to church.”

“You judge others by yourself,” Selden retorted.

“I believe I do. But our sudden access of religion, I fear, would not be appreciated. My dear fellow, our piety, like that of his satanic majesty, would be distrusted. It would edify no one, only make us ridiculous. Let us go to the Cliff.”

And to the Cliff all went, but the drive was not much enjoyed. Bob and Selden were quarrelsome, and all the others laughed at them, which ended by making them surly. Selden ridiculed the San Franciscans for their stupid Cliff House, while all sat in arm-chairs on the broad veranda and looked at the Pacific Ocean, and Pacific sea lions, and Pacific rocks, and thought them all equally monotonous. To watch the ugly sea beasts awkwardly dragging their unwieldly hulks up the rocks, there to spread themselves in the sun, was not a very exhilarating spectacle for young gentlemen who desired to see other kinds of lions. Sunday not being the fashionable day for San Franciscans to drive to the Cliff, the New Yorkers concluded that the elite would not be seen that afternoon and returned to the hotel.

After dinner several lady friends, who had received Elvira's wedding cards and had seen her and Mercedes at church that morning, called.

The cards of the New Yorkers, also, were brought, and they followed immediately. Elvira presented them very gracefully, while George watched with delighted attention the perfect ease and natural elegance with which she did the honors as hostess.

Robert Gunther and Arthur Selden seated themselves in a corner, on the right of Mercedes' chair, but Clarence held his place on the end of the sofa, very near her.

About ten o'clock, Mr. Charles Gunther said to them:

“Much as it pains me to tear myself away, young men, it must be done, for we have made a first call of nearly two hours' duration.”

“It has not seemed to us nearly so long,” Mercedes said.

“It was no more than two minutes,” Bob Gunther added.

“How you exaggerate,” Mr. Selden exclaimed.

“Ask him how long it has seemed to him,” Bob suggested.

“I would not dare. He thinks you exaggerate, that is enough,” replied Mercedes.

Selden gave her a look of tender reproach, and a savage one at Bob, as he bowed, leaving the room.

By nine o'clock Monday morning Clarence had received the certificates of assay he had ordered on Saturday afternoon. It seemed to him that there must be a mistake somewhere about the rock, for these assays gave even a higher percentage than those shown him by the miners. He went to Hubert's office and found Fred already there waiting for him.

“Look here, Hubert, are you sure that these men did not bring us this rich rock from some other mine? The assays are very high. One goes as high as $2000 per ton.”

“They might have selected the specimens, but I can vouch for their being from the same ledge, for I know the rock. I can also vouch for the honesty of the men, for I know them well; besides, what would be the good of telling a falsehood that would be found out the minute the expert got there? Their reputation is worth more to them than the five hundred dollars that you will pay now,” was Hubert's reply.

“They are good men. I have known them for years, and have had them working with me,” Fred added.

“Then let us finish this business now, for I go out of town to-morrow morning,” Clarence said, and in half an hour he had explained his views and wishes and made his contract with Fred Haverly, the terms of which had been already mentioned on Saturday night and Sunday morning. The miners now came and the contract with them, also, was made and acknowledged in due form.

By twelve o'clock that day Clarence had dispatched his business with the miners and with Fred Haverly, reserving until he returned instructions regarding his Alameda farm.

In the afternoon all drove to the Cliff House. The ugly sea lions did not seem so clumsy to Mr. Selden, as Mercedes laughed, amused to see their ungainly efforts at locomotion, and as she pronounced the Pacific Ocean to be grand and the wild surf dashing madly against the impassive rocks very impressive, Mr. Selden was of the same way of thinking, and found the sea lions rather graceful and dignified, the black rocks more interesting than they had been the day before.

The gayeties of San Francisco made time slip away magically, and a week passed in receptions, drives and yacht sailing, in honor of Elvira, seemed very short indeed. But now another week had begun, and the journey eastward must be resumed.

Our travelers took an early breakfast on Tuesday morning, and by seven o'clock they left the hotel. Half an hour later, they were on the Oakland boat, crossing San Francisco Bay on their way to New York.

“There is plenty of room here for all the navies of the world,” George observed, looking at the harbor.

“Yes, I believe the bay is forty miles across,” replied Clarence. “For all intents and purposes at present, however, San Diego Bay is as good as this.”

“Yes, I only wish we had commerce enough for ships to be crowded there.”

“If Colonel Scott succeeds in constructing his railroad, there is no doubt that San Diego will be a large city in a few years.”

“I believe that, but the question is, will Colonel Scott succeed?”

“I think he will, but he has a hard crowd to fight.”

Clarence mused a little, then, changing his position so as to face George, said:

“I have had an idea in my head, a sort of project, I want to talk to you about. Of course, its practicability, I fear, will entirely depend upon the building of the Texas Pacific Railroad; for if San Diego is not to have population, my plan will be impracticable. It is this: The two banks in San Diego, I don't think, have a paid-up capital of more than a hundred thousand dollars. I think we could establish a bank of two or three hundred thousand dollars that would be a paying institution. I heard you say that you thought you would like to come to California, so as to be near your family. That gave me the idea of starting a bank. You could be the president and manager, and I would furnish as much of the capital as suited you.”

“Your idea is splendid, nothing could suit me better; but I suppose we will have to see whether we are to have a railroad or not.”

“Yes, that is the sole and unavoidable condition.”

“I suppose we will know next winter, and if it be decided that the Texas Pacific is to be built, I will immediately accept your proposition, and put in some money with you.”

“I can take half, or a third of the stock, and put in some money for Don Gabriel and Victoriano; and Everett can come in, too. You can easily instruct Don Gabriel in the banking business.”

“He would make a good cashier; he is a good bookkeeper already. I think I could put in twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars.”

“If you put in twenty-five thousand, I will put in that much for each of the others, Don Gabriel, Tano and Retty, and one hundred thousand for myself, or will put in thirty thousand for Don Gabriel and ninety-five thousand for myself.”

“You ought to be the president.”

“No, I want you and Don Gabriel to have the entire management. You can take in Tano and Retty, if you like, if they prove themselves efficient; but as for myself, I want to be free to attend to those mines (if they are worth working) and take care of my Alameda farm. Don't you think that two hundred thousand will be enough to start? I can put in more, if necessary, by selling some of my United States bonds. I have seven hundred and fifty thousand in United States securities, which I can convert into money at any time.”

“Two hundred thousand is more than enough. We can increase the capital, if we wish, afterward. I am glad you are so well fixed in government securities.”

“I could have had a round million if I had not sold my stock too soon; but my father kept talking to me so much against dealing in mining stocks, that I ordered Hubert Haverly to sell all I had. Fortunately he held on for a few days to my Crown Point, and sold for nine hundred thousand dollars. I was sorry enough to have lost a million for being so obedient a son, and when in that mood I promised Hubert I would not interfere again, but let him manage my stocks as he thought best. Since then he has done very well, so that now I have seven hundred and fifty thousand in United States bonds, my farm, for which Hubert paid ninety thousand, some town lots in San Francisco, and about one hundred and sixty thousand dollars in bank, besides the interest on my bonds, which I have not drawn for over a year.”

“Why, that makes you worth over a million.”

“Yes, but if I had kept my Crown Point for a few days longer I could have sold for a million and a half. However, I think the Arizona mines will reward my filial obedience,” added he, smiling, “and if we can start that bank I shall be satisfied. I think it is a pity that such men as Don Mariano and his sons do not have some other better-paying business than cattle-raising. It used to pay well, but I fear it never will again, while such absurdities as the ‘No-Fence Laws’ are allowed to exist.”

“Yes, I heard Don Mariano say to my father: ‘I am sure I am to be legislated into a rancheria, as there is no poor-house in San Diego to put me into,’ he said it smiling, but his smile was very sad. However, when the appeal is dismissed and he is rid of squatters, he will recuperate, provided, of course, there be a Texas Pacific to make San Diego lands valuable. Without it the prospect is gloomy indeed, I may well say dead.”

“That's it; it all depends upon that railroad, I am sorry to say, when we are so powerless to counteract hostile influences.”

“We must hope and wait.”