anybody at all, or have any standing whatever. And, whatever you
do, don't go talking of me as if I were named after a vegetable.
'Yerba Buena' is the name of an island in the bay just off San
Francisco. I'm named after that."

"But I don't see the difference, dear. The island was named after
the vine that grows on it."

"YOU don't see the difference?" said Yerba, darkly. "Well, I do.
But what are you looking at?"

Her companion had caught her arm, and was gazing intently at the
house.

"Yerba," she said quickly, "there's the Mayor, and uncle, and a
strange gentleman coming down the walk. They're looking for us.
And, as I live, Yerb! the strange gentleman is that young senator,
Mr. Hathaway!"

"Mr. Hathaway? Nonsense!"

"Look for yourself."

Yerba glanced at the three gentlemen, who, a hundred yards distant,
were slowly advancing in the direction of the ceanothus-hedge,
behind which the girls had instinctively strayed during their
conversation.

"What are you going to do?" said Milly, eagerly. "They're coming
straight this way. Shall we stay here and let them pass, or make a