Mr. George Mechlin and traveling companions had a most delightful journey across the continent in spite of the hot weather.

Mr. Lawrence Mechlin and wife came to New York to meet George's bride and her sister and take them to Long Branch, where they had been sojourning for the last two months.

Mrs. Lawrence Mechlin was most favorably impressed with her nephew's wife and her sister. The two young beauties captivated her at once. She was enthusiastic.

“My dear,” said she after dinner, addressing Elvira, “before I saw you and your sister I had been deliberating in my mind whether we should not go directly to our cottage in Newport and spend the remainder of the summer there. But now I think we had better go to Long Branch first, and then, unless you wish to visit Saratoga, we will go to Newport. How will that do?” She looked at George.

George smiled. He knew his aunt must be much pleased to put herself to the trouble of this traveling in hot weather. He replied:

“I am sure these young ladies will be most happy to follow you, aunt.”

“Don't you all get too tired. And this reminds me that people who have been in the cars for ten days should have some rest. The day will be cool to-morrow; we need not go back to Long Branch until the day after,” said the senior Mechlin.

“We do not intend going to-morrow. We have something to do in town yet,” said Mrs. Mechlin.

“Some shopping, I suppose,” Mr. Lawrence observed.

“Exactly,” his wife assented.

After Mrs. Mechlin accompanied Elvira and Mercedes to their respective apartments, she returned to the library, where her husband and nephew were engaged in conversation. There was in Mrs. Mechlin's step and manner a degree of pleased elasticity, an amiable buoyancy of contented alacrity, which betokened that her mind was in a state of subdued pleasurable excitement which was to her very enjoyable. She came to George and kissed him twice, saying:

“I must repeat my kiss and congratulations, dear George. Your wife is perfection. Where in the world did such beauties grow? I assure you I am perfectly carried away by those two girls. No wonder you were so impatient to get married. They will be the rage next winter, and I shall give several dinners and receptions in honor of your wife, of course.”

“You are always so kind to me, dear aunt.”

“No more than I ought to be, but this time pleasure and duty will go together. I know I shall be proud to present my beautiful niece to New York society. Her manners are exquisite. She is lovely. She will be greatly admired, and justly so.”

“You will have to arrange for your parties and dinners to be in December and February, because George is going to Washington in January, and the young ladies will take that opportunity to visit the Capital with him,” said Mr. Mechlin, senior.

“That is a pity. Couldn't they go in December?”

“No, because George's business is with the Attorney General, and he wrote to me that he would not be ready until January. However, January is six months off yet. For the present, you have enough on your hands with your plans for the summer.”

“That is very true. We will order some summer things to be made immediately. But I feel quite sure that we can find imported dresses ready made that will suit. I saw some lovely batists and grenadines at Arnold & Constable's, just from Paris, also beautiful embroidered muslins at Stewart's. We will see to-morrow and be ready to return the day after.”

Life at Long Branch in the Mechlin cottage was very delightful to Elvira and Mercedes. When they had been there about two weeks, Mr. Robert Gunther appeared on the scene, and next day Mr. Arthur Selden followed. As they were old friends of the Mechlins, Mrs. Mechlin thought it was a natural thing that these two young gentlemen, on their return from their travels, should come to see her at Long Branch.

“In a day or two we are going to Newport, young gentlemen,” she said. “You had better join our party and we'll all go together.”

“I shall be most happy. My mother and sister have been with friends in the White Mountains, but will be at Newport next week, so this arrangement will suit me,” said Gunther.

“It will suit me, also, as I promised my mother and sisters I should be at Newport in two weeks. Saratoga is too hot for me. I left them there under father's care. He likes Saratoga,” Mr. Selden said.

If their sojourn at Long Branch had seemed so delightful to Elvira and Mercedes, their pleasures increased ten-fold at Newport. The Mechlin villa, shaded by tall elms and poplars, and surrounded by shrubbery and flowers, with a beautiful lawn and fountains in front, facing the ocean, and well-kept walks and arbors in different places on the grounds, was certainly a charming abode, fit to please the most fastidious taste. Then the drives, croquet playing, boat sailing and promenades, were also much enjoyed by our two little Californians. In the evenings, music and dancing would add variety to their pleasures, until such life seemed to them too charming to be real.

“And is this life repeated every summer, year after year?” asked Mercedes one evening as in the coming twilight she was sitting with Mr. Bob Gunther in a cozy bower of roses located on a little knoll in the grounds of the Gunther villa. They were looking at the gay equipages which drove by. Gunther sighed as he answered.

“Do you like this life?”

“Very much, but perhaps because it is a novelty to me. However, I am never tired of things that I once like, so I suppose I would like it always.”

She did not look at Gunther; her attention was all given to the beautiful carriages driving by. If she had looked at him she would have seen the intensity of his passion in the workings of his features. For a moment the struggle with himself was terrible; but controlling his voice all he could, he said:

“You can have this life if you wish, and continue in the winters in a beautiful residence in New York or in Paris, should you desire it. You know it.”

“No, I do not. I have no fairy god-mother to give me palaces. Come, let us go. Where is everybody?” said she, hurrying out of the arbor, looking about the grounds for Elvira and Miss Gunther, who had but a moment before been near her. “Ah! there they are; let us go to them.”

“Do I frighten you? or am I tiresome?” said he, pale to the lips, following her.

“Neither; but young ladies who—who are—I mean any young lady, should not have such tete-Á-tetes with fascinating young gentlemen in rosy bowers.”

“Young ladies who are—what?”

“Who are judicious.”

“Were you not going to say ‘who are engaged?’”

“If I had, I might not have said the truth, strictly.”

“Oh, in Heaven's name, tell me the truth! Are you engaged?”

“Ask me no questions, and I'll tell thee no lies.”

“You are cruel; you are trifling with me!”

She stopped and looked up quickly into his eyes. For a moment she hesitated, then resolutely said:

“Mr. Gunther, I like you very much. Don't talk to me like this. I want to find pleasure in your society, but I shall not if you talk so to me. I am not and have never been cruel, and it never entered my head to trifle with you—never!”

“Forgive me this time. I shall never offend again.”

He looked so distressed that Mercedes felt very sorry for him. She would have comforted him if she could. They walked in silence a few steps, but as he still looked pale, she did not wish the other ladies to see him. They were walking towards the house. Pointing to a narrow path leading towards the seashore, she said:

“That path goes to your boat-house, I suppose.”

“Yes. I have a new boat; would you like to see it?”

“Is it far? You see it is getting late.”

“We can come back in ten minutes.”

“Truly? No longer than ten minutes?”

“Not a second longer unless you wish it.”

“Come,” said she, turning quickly into the little path, and he followed her. She did not care a straw to see the boat, but she wanted to give him time to get back the color to his face. She walked so fast down the hill; she almost ran. She looked back; he was following close. She began to laugh and started to run. He ran after her, and they did not stop until they got to the beach.

“How long is it since we started?” she asked. He looked at his watch.

“Not quite two minutes,” he answered.

“I beg your pardon for running, obliging you to run, but I felt like it when I saw the blue water. It reminded me of home, of San Diego.”

“No apology is needed. If it gave you pleasure to run, I am glad you did so.”

“One look only, and then we must go back. Perhaps we had better return; I hear horses coming,” she said, and at the same time Mr. Selden and his youngest sister came down by the boat-house at a gallop. His face flushed and became pale, but he lifted his hat as he passed. Gunther did the same, in answer to Miss Selden's salutation.

“Let us return. More riders might be passing,” said Mercedes, and began to walk back.

“What! without seeing the boat?”

“It will be dark inside the house. I'll come some other time, earlier.”

“Do you promise me that?”

“Certainly. You see, we can't run as fast up hill; it will take more than two minutes to return.”

Again the galloping of horses was heard, and Selden, with his sister, passed on their way back just as Mercedes and Gunther reached the bank at the edge of the lawn and sat down to rest.

Selden's sister had noticed how he flushed and how livid he became a minute after, and faithfully reported the fact to her vigilant mamma as soon as she got home. Arthur would be watched now. His mamma knew that he was a millionaire and considered “a catch.”

The Seldens had been abroad many years, the greater time in England, and had acquired some English habits, one of which was to dine late. That evening Arthur did not come down to dinner until half-past eight o'clock. He was afraid he would be questioned regarding the young lady with Robert Gunther. He felt too angry with his friend to hear his name spoken. But it was unavoidable. As soon as he took his seat at the table his mother asked:

“Who was the lady with Robert on the beach?”

“When?”

“This evening as we rode by his boat-house,” explained his sister.

“Were they coming out of the boat-house?” asked the elder sister. Arthur's lips became white again.

“Don't be alarmed. They did not go into the boat-house,” said he, sneeringly.

“I? I alarmed? It seems to me you are the one alarmed. I might say frightened,” she replied, reddening like a peony, trembling with anger, as she well understood her brother meant to allude to her well known fondness for Bob.

“Who is the lady, any way? I ask,” reiterated Mrs. Selden.

“She is George Mechlin's sister-in-law,” Arthur replied.

“Ah! That is the beauty I hear half a dozen fellows are raving about,” said Miss Selden, to pique her brother.

“Is she so very pretty, Arthur?” asked the younger sister.

“I never saw any woman so beautiful in all my life,” he answered, with dogged resolution as if about to pull the string of his shower bath.

The mother and daughters exchanged looks. They understood it all now. Poor Arthur, he, too, was raving.

“By-the-by, I met Mechlin in the street to-day, and he asked if any one was sick in our family,” observed Mr. Selden, senior.

“I understand. We will call to-morrow,” Mrs. Selden said, sententiously. “We will see the beauties.”

And they did. When they were in their carriage riding home, Mrs. Selden said:

“I am sorry for Arthur if he is in love with that girl. I fear he will never get over it.”

“So much the better if he marries her,” said the younger sister.

“Yes, but if he does not, he'll never have any heart left.”

“Do you suppose she would refuse him?” said the elder sister, haughtily.

“I don't know; I must have a talk with Arthur.”

She had a talk with Arthur, and when he saw evasion would be useless, he told her all about his love and why he believed it hopeless, judging by what he heard George say.

“But if she is not positively engaged to that Darrell, why should you fear him more than you fear Gunther?”

“Because I believe she loves him.”

“Perhaps. But we are not sure of it. Moreover, he is far off in California, and you are here.”

Arthur shook his head despondingly, but, nevertheless, he was pleased to hear his mother say that they must entertain those two Californians, and Mrs. Mechlin would think it was all intended as a compliment to herself.

The Gunthers being more intimate with the Mechlins, should not be outdone by the Seldens in courtesy to these two ladies (at least such was the opinion expressed by Robert to his mother), and thus a day hardly passed without some entertainment for their amusement.

Arthur closed his eyes to the future and let himself float down this stream of sweet pleasures, knowing that they were but a dream, and yet for that reason more determined to drink the last drop of that nectar so intoxicating, and enjoy being near her, within the sound of her voice, within the magic circle of her personality. The thought that he had seen her with Gunther rambling on the beach had been at first very bitter and disconcerting, but when he had learned that she had intended going to see the boat, but changed her mind, he consoled himself, and more easily yet, when he observed that Gunther and other admirers made no more progress as suitors than he did himself.

Misery loves company, sure. Thus it will be seen that Mr. Arthur Selden did not deceive himself with any very great hopes of success; still, such is the complexity of man's aspirations and man's reasoning, that he determined to speak to Mercedes of his love, for he had never done so—had never offered himself to her. He would know the worst from her own lips. So one morning in the month of September, when George Mechlin and his uncle had gone to New York on business on account of Jay Cook's failure, Selden saw the two Misses Mechlin out driving on the road towards Fort Adams. He concluded that the two Misses Mechlin must be going to call on the officers' wives, stationed at the Fort, and Mercedes must be alone at home. He immediately took a side road thus to avoid meeting the Mechlins and drove directly to the Mechlin villa. He found Mercedes alone in the library, where she had gone for a book to take to her room.

“Mr. Arthur Selden,” said the tall servant at the library door, and behind his broad shoulders peeped Arthur's red whiskers.

“I took the liberty of following the servant,” said he, “because I hoped we would be less interrupted here.”

“Undoubtedly,” replied she, laughing and offering him a chair; “very logical deduction.”

“Don't laugh at me, please,” said he, blushing; “I know you are thinking that others might follow you here as well as I, and it is so, but you see, Miss Mercedes, I am in despair at times. I have been wishing to speak to you alone, but I never have a chance.”

“Why, Mr. Selden, you see me very often.”

“Yes, but not alone, not where I could tell you all I feel for you, and beg you not to drive me to despair. You know I have loved you from the first instant I saw you. Can I hope ever to win your love? May I hope, or is my love hopeless?”

“Mr. Selden, I like you very much, but please do not ask me to love you. It is not possible.”

“Why not? Is it because I am not handsome like Bob Gunther?” said he, with a painful sneer. “Believe me, I shall be a devoted, loving husband; none can love you more passionately and devotedly.”

“I do not doubt it. But I cannot. Please don't ask me, and don't hate me.”

“Mr. Robert Gunther,” said the tall waiter, and Bob's broad brow and good-natured smile shone at the door.

The delightful sojourn at Newport was now over. The Mechlin family were again at their town residence in New York City. Elvira and Mercedes, as it was their habit, were that evening having their cosy chat before going to bed.

“So Clarence will be here next month,” Elvira remarked.

“Yes, he says he will spend Christmas with us, and if we'll let him, he will go with us to Washington.”

“That will be delightful. I suppose Gunther and your other numerous slaves will disappear when he arrives.”

“They ought not, for I have never encouraged any one any more than if I had been married already.”

“But you are not, my darling, and that makes a very great difference with young gentlemen.”

“Why is it that Mrs. Mechlin does not approve of my being engaged to Clarence?”

“Because she had set her heart upon your marrying Gunther, who is a great favorite of hers.”

“I am sorry to disappoint her, for she has been so sweet and good to me, but I can't help it. Here are the letters I got from home. I'll leave them for you to read, and you let me have yours. I hear George coming up stairs, I must go to my room.”

“Well, pussy, haven't you had a nice frolic at Newport?” said George, stopping Mercedes at the door and making her come back into the room again.

“Indeed I have,” Mercedes answered.

“And haven't you broken hearts as if they were old cracked pottery?”

“They must have been, to be broken so easily. But I guess I didn't hurt any very much.”

“Indeed you did. Besides Gunther and Selden who are given up as incurable, there are three or four others very badly winged. Poor fellows, and friends of mine, too. It is like an epidemic, uncle says.”

“Clarence will soon be here and stop the epidemic from spreading any further,” Elvira said.

“I don't know about that. But I am glad he is coming. When will he be here?”

“About Christmas—perhaps about the twentieth of December,” Mercedes answered. “He says he will telegraph to you the day he starts.”

“I shall be glad to see him; he is a noble fellow,” said he, and embraced Mercedes, saying good night.