oth their fortunes. And the beautiful part
about it was, he did.

No doubt you have heard of the famous Golden Eagle mine. Well,
that's what Olaf and the three burros found in Death Valley. Good
old Olaf! He named the mine after Dad's livery-stable in San
Bernardino, and he insisted on keeping only a half interest, even
though Dad fought him about it. You see, Dad didn't have the
reputation of being the squarest man in San Bernardino for nothing.

Chapter Two

My mother's family had never approved of her marriage with Dad, but
Dad, poor and running a hardware shop or a livery-stable, and Dad
with a fortune in his hands were two very different people--from
their standpoint, at least; so as soon as Olaf and the three burros
struck it rich, Dad sold his livery-stable, and mammy Rachel and I
were bundled off to Ninette's relations in New Orleans. I didn't
like it a bit at first, but one can get used to anything in time.
Ninette's maiden sister, Miss Marie Madeline Antoinette Hortense
Prevost, was awfully nice to me; so was grandmere Prevost. I lived
with them till I was sixteen, when I was sent to France.

If I wanted to (and you would let me) I could personally conduct you
to Paris, where if you were ten feet tall and not averse to staring,
you could look over a certain gray stone wall on the Boulevard des
Invalides, and see me pacing sedately up and down the gravel walks
in the garden of the Convent of the Sacred Heart. That is, you could
have seen me three years ago. I'm not there now, thank goodness! I'm
in California.

And just one word before we go any further any further. I don't want
you to think for a minute that I came back from Paris a little
Frenchified miss. No, indeed! I'm as American as they make them.
When I boasted to the other girls, whether in Paris or New Orleans,
I always boasted about two things: Dad and California. And I've an
idea I'll go on boasting about them till my dying day.

Of course, when I returned from Paris, Dad met me in New York. It
was a good thing he was rich, for it took a lot of money to get me
and my seven trunks through the custom-house. It might have taken
more, though, if it hadn't been for a young man who came over on the
same boat.

He was such a good-looking young man; tall and broad-shouldered and
fair, with light-brown hair, and the nicest eyes you ever saw. It
wasn't their color so much (his eyes were blue) as the way they
looked at you that made them so a