presumptive well-wisher of the girl what you have told to her
enemy."

There was a dead silence. The prostrate man uttered a slight
groan, as if in pain, and drew up his leg to change his position.
After a pause, he said, in a restrained voice, "I differ from you,
Mr. Hathaway; but enough of this for the present. I have something
else to say. It will be necessary for one of us to go at once to
Santa Clara and see Miss Yerba Buena."

"Good heavens!" said Paul, quickly. "Do you call her THAT?"

"Certainly, sir. You gave her the name. Have you forgotten?"

"I only suggested it," returned Paul, hopelessly; "but no matter--
go on."

"I cannot go there, as you see," continued Pendleton, with a weary
gesture towards his crippled ankle; "and I should particularly like
you to see her before we make the joint disposition of her affairs
with the Mayor, two months hence. I have some papers you can show
her, and I have already written a letter introducing you to the
Lady Superior at the convent, and to her. You have never seen
her?"

"No," said Paul. "But of course you have?"

"Not for three years."

Paul's eyes evidently expressed some wonder, for a moment after the