“I like him, too, Robert,” said Miss Knight; “he is every inch a gentleman, and doubtless belongs to a good family or he would not have been so carefully reared. Still I am troubled; I want Virgie to go home as free as she came, and—I feel as if young Hamilton ought to be put upon his honor—at least until we can give her back to her mother, when, of course, our responsibility will cease. I can read the signs of the times pretty well, if I have grown to be an old woman, and, if we do not look out, they will be acknowledged lovers before another fortnight goes by.” Mr. Knight looked thoughtful. “Well,” he responded after a moment of silence, “we shall not be together much longer. Hamilton leaves this party as soon as we have done California to go to Mexico with another company, so——” “Yes, I know that,” interrupted his sister, “and that is just what is going to precipitate matters if we are not on our guard. When the time comes for them to separate you do not suppose he will leave her without begging for some word of hope?” “Stella, you reason remarkably well,” said Mr. Knight, laughing, “and I think it will be best to put a flea in the boy’s ear. I suppose it will be better for me to get the name of being a meddlesome old fogy rather than run any risk of future unhappiness for our dear girl.” Miss Knight appeared to be satisfied with this decision of her brother, and dropped the subject. The party was at San Jose when this conversation occurred. They were to remain several days in the beautiful city, making it their headquarters also while visiting points of interest in its vicinity, and Mr. Knight resolved to make a bold stroke at once at the disagreeable task that his sister had imposed on him, and have the matter off his mind. As they were leaving the table of the Anjerais House after dinner that evening he slipped his arm within Rupert’s in a confidential way and said, with a genial smile: “Mr. Hamilton, I am going out for a little quiet stroll about the city; will you come with me?” Rupert had been meditating a cozy _tête-à-tête_ with Virgie on the veranda, while the band discoursed sweet music on the stand near by, but he was too well bred and unselfish to refuse an old gentleman’s request, and unhesitatingly responded: “Thank you, sir, I shall be happy to accompany you.” When they were in the street Mr. Knight turned his steps toward the park near by, and, after walking up and down its beautiful avenues for a while, he seated himself upon a rustic bench and motioned his companion to sit beside him. Then he turned frankly to him, and, speaking with great kindness, said: “My young friend, it has always been my practice, when I had any disagreeable duty to perform, to adopt the most straightforward course, and, as I have something on my heart which I wish to say to you, I trust that you will pardon me if I speak out freely.”