"She said 'some silver-mines,' I am sure," she faltered; "for I remember how astonished and bewildered I was. The fact is, that she is such a very singular girl, and has told me so many wonderful things, in the strangest, cool way, that I am quite uncertain of myself. Murderers, and gold-diggers, and silver-mines, and camps full of men without women, making presents of gold girdles and dog-collars, and ear-rings that drag your ears down. It is enough to upset any one." "I should think so," responded her ladyship. "Open the carriage-door, Belinda, and let me get out." She felt that this matter must be inquired into at once, and not allowed to go too far. She had ruled Slowbridge too long to allow such innovations to remain uninvestigated. She would not be likely to be "upset," at least. She descended from her landau, with her most rigorous air. Her stout, rich black _moire-antique_ gown rustled severely; the yellow ostrich feather in her bonnet waved majestically. (Being a brunette, and Lady Theobald, she wore yellow.) As she tramped up the gravel walk, she held up her dress with both hands, as an example to vulgar and reckless young people who wore trains and left them to take care of themselves. Octavia was arranging afresh the bunch of long-stemmed, swaying buds at her waist, and she was giving all her attention to her task when her visitor first addressed her. "How do you do?" remarked her ladyship, in a fine, deep voice. Miss Belinda followed her meekly. "Octavia," she explained, "this is Lady Theobald, whom you will be very glad to know. She knew your father." "Yes," returned my lady, "years ago. He has had time to improve since then. How do you do?" Octavia's limpid eyes rested serenely upon her. "How do you do?" she said, rather indifferently. "You are from Nevada?" asked Lady Theobald. "Yes." "It is not long since you left there?" Octavia smiled faintly. "Do I look like that?" she inquired. "Like what?" said my lady. "As if I had not long lived in a civilized place. I dare say I do, because it is true that I haven't." "You don't look like an English girl," remarked her ladyship. Octavia smiled again. She looked at the yellow feather and stout _moire antique_ dress, but quite as if by accident, and without any mental deduction; then she glanced at the rosebuds in her hand. "I suppose I ought to be sorry for that," she observed. "I dare say I shall be in time--when I have been longer away from Nevada." "I must confess," admitted her ladyship, and evidently without the least regret or embarrassment, "I must confess that I don't know where Nevada is." "It isn't in Europe," replied Octavia, with a soft, light laugh. "You know that, don't you?"