see (reading.) "This is old"--old--er--old--demme, sir!--"Starbottle!" This is infamous. I haven't been forty-eight hours in the place, and to my certain knowledge haven't spoken to a child. Ged, sir, it's the--er--posting of a libel! The woman, the--er--female, who permits this kind of thing, should be made responsible--er--personally responsible. Eh, hush! What have we here? (Retires to ledge of rocks.) Enter MISS MARY L., reading letter. Miss Mary. Strange! Is it all a dream? No! here are the familiar rocks, the distant snow-peaks, the schoolhouse, the spring below. An hour ago I was the poor schoolmistress of Red Gulch, with no ambition nor hope beyond this mountain wall; and now--oh, it must be a dream! But here is the letter. Certainly this is no delusion: it is too plain, formal, business-like. (Reads.) MY DEAR COUSIN--I address the only surviving child of my cousin Mary and her husband John Morris, both deceased. It is my duty as a Christian relative to provide you with a home--to share with you that wealth and those blessings that a kind providence has vouchsafed me. I am aware that my conduct to your father and mother, while in my sinful and unregenerate state, is no warrantee for my present promise; but my legal adviser, Col. Starbottle, who is empowered to treat with you, will assure you of the sincerity of my intention, and my legal ability to perform it. He will conduct you to my house; you will share its roof with me and my prodigal son Alexander, now by the grace of God restored, and mindful of the error of his ways. I enclose a draft for one thousand dollars: if you require more, draw upon me for the same. Your cousin, ALEXANDER MORTON, SEN. My mother's cousin--so! Cousin Alexander! a rich man, and reunited to the son he drove into shameful exile. Well! we will see this confidential lawyer; and until then--until then--why, we are the schoolmistress of Red Gulch, and responsible for its youthful prodigals. (Going to schoolhouse door.) Miss Mary (stopping to examine flowers). Poor, poor Sandy! Another offering, and, as he fondly believes, unknown and anonymous! As if he were not visible in every petal and leaf! The mariposa blossom of the plain. The snowflower I longed for, from those cool snowdrifts beyond the ridge. And I really believe he was sober when he arranged them. Poor fellow! I begin to think that the dissipated portion of this community are the most interesting. Ah! some one behind the rock,--Sandy, I'll wager. No! a stranger! Col. Starbottle (aside, and advancing). If I could make her think I left those flowers! (Aloud.) When I state that--er--I am perhaps--er--stranger-- Miss Mary (interrupting him coldly). You explain, sir, your appearance on a spot which the rude courtesy of even this rude miner's camp has preserved from intrusion.