For an instant their eyes met.

The young girl turned carelessly to her companions and said, "No; stay here--it's the public parlor;" and her followers, evidently accustomed to her authority, sat down again.
"A galaxy of young ladies from the Convent of Santa Clara, Mr.
Hathaway," explained Captain Stidger, naively oblivious of any discourtesy on their part, as he followed Hathaway's glance and took his arm as they moved away.

"Not the least of our treasures, sir.
Most of them daughters of pioneers--and all Californian bred and educated.

Connoisseurs have awarded them the palm, and declare that for Grace, Intelligence, and Woman's Highest Charms the East cannot furnish their equal!" Having delivered this Parthian compliment in an oratorical passage through the doorway, the captain descended, outside, into familiar speech.

"But I suppose you will find that out for yourself if you stay here long.