hands plunged
into his pockets, gazing on the scene with an expression of ludicrous
dismay. In a moment he caught the companion's eye. She smiled
involuntarily, all that was still young in her leaping to meet that glad
symbol of youth. He walked quickly over to her.

"I say," he exclaimed, apologetically, "I haven't been introduced, but
do let ceremony go, and talk to me. I never saw so many old fogies in my
life, and this room is like a morgue. I almost feel afraid to look
behind me."

She gave him a grateful heart-beat for all that his words implied.

"Sit down," she said, with a vivacity she had not known was left in her
sluggish currents. "How--did--you--come--here?"

"Why, you see, I'm visiting the Holts--Jack Holt was my chum at
college--and when they asked me if I wanted to see the oldest house in
the city, and meet the most famous man 'on this side of the bay,' why,
of course, I said I'd come. But, gods! I didn't know it would be like
this, although Jack said the tail of a wild mustang couldn't get him
through the front door. Being on my first visit to the widely renowned
California, I thought it my duty to see all the sights. Where did you
come from?"

"Oh, I live here. I've lived here for twenty-four years."

"Great Scott!" His eyes bulged. "You've lived in this house for
twenty-four years?"

"Twenty-four years."

"And you're not dead yet--I beg pardon," hastily. "I am afraid you think
me very rude."

"No, I do not. I am glad you realize how dreadful it is. Nobody else
ever does. These people have known me for most of that time, and it has
never occurred to them to wonder how I stood it. Do you know that you
are the first young person I have spoken with for years and years?"

"You don't mean it?" His boyish soul was filled with pity. "Well, I
should think you'd bolt and run."

"What use? I've stayed too long. I'm an old woman now, and may as well
stay till the end."

The youth was beginning to feel embarrassed, but was spared the effort
of making a suitable reply by the entrance of Dr. Webster. The old man
was clad in shining broadcloth, whose maker was probably dead these many
years. He leaned on a cane heavily mounted with gold.

"Howdy, howdy, howdy?" he cried, in his rough but hospitable tones.
"Glad to see you. Didn't think you'd come. Yes, I did, though," with a
chuckle. "Well, come down to dinner, I'm hungry."

He turned his back without individual greeting, and led the way along
the