Oh, these judgments of women, whose instinct _never_ mistakes character,--where one out of ten women guesses the villain at sight and brags of it forever, the other nine mistaken sisters are swindled and perchance undone, and say nothing about woman's unfailing intuition, but still keep on guessing wrong until the crack of doom. As Erma gazes on Kruger he continues: "Bound for a summer jaunt, I guess,--some watering place where the boys and gals will have a high time--Nar-regani-set or Newport or Sarietogy, Miss Ermie. Your dad is very liberal to you, I understand,--puts up the greenbacks in wads." "My father is generosity itself to me," returns Miss Travenion rather haughtily, for she is by no means pleased with the freedom of Mr. Kruger's remarks. "But the Newport season is finished, and I have accepted Mrs. Ogden Livingston's invitation to be one of her party. Under her charge I am going to take a run across the continent, and _en route_ for California I shall drop in upon papa, and astonish and enrapture him." "Wh--e--w!" This would be a prolonged whistle, did not Kruger check it savagely, and cut it off in the middle. Then he goes on stammeringly, but eagerly:--"Your dad doesn't know of--of your intention?" an amazed expression lighting up his honest gray eyes, which is forced down by his set, calm, repressive lower face. "No, he doesn't guess that I'm coming. Won't it be a surprise to dear papa when I step lightly into his office, and say: 'Behold your daughter!'" laughs Erma. "Yes,--I--reckon it will be a--sockdolager!" mutters her father's friend contemplatively. Then says suddenly, "You haven't telegraphed him?" "Certainly not; I wish to surprise him. Besides, I shall be with him almost as soon as a telegram, now that this wonderful Pacific Railway is finished," babbles the girl. "It will only take seven days to far-off California, and Ogden is two days this side of San Francisco, I understand." "Yes, your time-table's all right," returns Mr. Kruger. Then he asks quietly, "Who's in your party?" "Oh, Mrs. Livingston, of course; her daughter, Louise; Mr. Ferdinand Chauncey, her nephew, and her son, who is now just beside me. Mr. Livingston, Mr. Lot Kruger, my father's friend." The two men acknowledge this introduction; then Livingston says hastily, "Miss Travenion, excuse me interrupting your conversation, but the train leaves in five minutes, and I presume my mother is even now anxious--perhaps already hysterical." "Very well, then," returns Erma. "Good-bye, Mr. Kruger. I am so glad to hear that papa is all right. Shall we see you in the West? We shall be in California two months, and perhaps on our return--" And she extends a gracious hand to the Westerner.