Breakfast was served on a delightful sun-porch that I had not before seen. Cecilia appeared promptly, having in fact been gathering fall flowers for some time, I judged, from the considerable armful of chrysanthemums, asters, dahlias and marigolds, which we found her arranging for the table. She seemed in excellent spirits, and greeted us most amiably. "I heard the artillery booming and thought an army had descended. It's a great regret to me, Mr. Ames, that I have never been able to make any headway at the traps. I suffer from chronic and incurable gun-shyness. I 'm sorry archery has gone out. I think I might have done better with the long bow." "Pinkle!" exclaimed Miss Hollister disdainfully. "I cured myself of gun-shyness easily enough by having the gardener follow me about whenever I took my daily walks, firing a gun at irregular intervals just behind me. I was threatened with deafness when I began, but the agitation of my tympanums by the explosions of my gun has corrected the difficulty. I have mentioned my discovery of this remedy to a distinguished aurist, and he is preparing a paper on the subject--not, however, without my permission--which he expects to read shortly before one of the most learned societies in Europe. Cecilia, the chops are overdone again; please remind me to speak to the cook about it. If it were not that he is so expert in detecting spurious steam-mill corn-meal, which is constantly sold as a substitute for the Boydville water-ground article, I should discharge him for this. An ill-broiled chop can do much to shake one's faith in human nature. If I wanted to eat grilled patent leather I should order it." In spite of her sharp observations it was quite clear to me that Miss Hollister's was the gentlest and sweetest of natures. I fully believed that her whims were the honest expression of a revolt against the tedious and conventional, and nothing in my later acquaintance disturbed this opinion. It was her privilege to do as she liked, and if she preferred cracking clay saucers with a shot-gun to knitting or darning stockings or gossiping, it was no one's business. The mail arrived and was placed by her plate before we left the table. She opened first a bulky envelope containing cuttings from a clipping bureau, and she mused aloud upon these as she read. "This persistent story of a sunken galleon off the Bolivian coast sounds plausible, but I fear it is the work of some bright young journalist. Our minister in that benighted country does n't take any stock in it. I had a cable from him yesterday. If he had given the story credence I should have gone down at once with a steamer and crew of divers. The imaginative young newspaper men continue romancing, however; and it costs me five cents a clipping." She next opened a letter that roused her to vigorous declamation.