round the world. He shall see he can't behave like a brute to me with
impunity. But yesterday morning when that silly little Vinerhorn wore
a shirt of Charvet's of exactly the same silk as I chose Harry last in
Paris, a nasty feeling came in my throat, and I seemed to see his blue
eyes flashing angry flames at me like when we said good-bye.

Just think, Mamma, all these years since I have been married I have
never so much as looked at anyone else. He has kept me knowing hardly
anything more of the world than I did then. But I am not going to _stay_
stupid I can assure you! If he can go off to Africa with Mrs. Smith, why
can't I play with Mr. Renour?

(I am tired of Gaston, really.)

The second night in the train was quite peaceful. We went to bed before
they came in from smoking, and Octavia had the top berth and heard
nothing, so I suppose the Vicomte said his prayers with his forehead
glued against the other side. And when we arrived at Los Angeles there
was the private car. It is so comfortable. The salon at the end has an
observation veranda on it, and at night three berths let down in it for
three of the men, and in the dining-room three others can sleep. The
Senator has a tiny place to himself. The Vinerhorns, who never will be
separated, have one cabin, and Tom and Octavia the other. Octavia says
she likes experiences, and she had no idea Tom could be so handy, for
Wilbor and Agnes and all the valets have been sent on to the Osages
City in an ordinary train and he had to dress her. I am in the larger
compartment with the two girls, and we have only one enormous bed for
the three of us! And it does seem quaint, Mamma, sleeping with women. I
felt quite shy at first; then we laughed so we could not get to sleep.
They are perfect angels and do everything for me, and make me so vain
admiring my hair being so long and curly. Columbia brushed it for half
an hour last night, and we were just in the middle of it when we pulled
up at a small station, on the beginning of the mining world, and to our
surprise Mr. Renour and his friend got in. We heard the noise and the
greetings and all peeped out to see, and the Senator, sans gene, brought
them down the passage to say how do you do.

Mr. Renour does look a pet! He was (and still is to-day) in miner's
dress, and it is corduroy trousers tucked into high-laced boots and a
grey flannel shirt with a shallow turn down collar which has been turned
up again, looking like a Lor