But now I hear he came all the way by coach instead of by rail, and got off at the cross-road, and we must have passed each other on the different trails.
So my journey would have gone for nothing, only that I now shall have the pleasure of going back with you and Kitty.

It will be a lovely drive by moonlight." Relieved by this revelation, it was easy work for Mrs.Horncastle to launch out into a playful, tantalizing, witty--but, I grieve to say, entirely imaginative--account of her escapade with Mrs.Barker.

How, left alone at the San Francisco hotel while their gentlemen friends were enjoying themselves at Hymettus, they resolved upon a little trip, partly for the purpose of looking into some small investments of their own, and partly for the fun of the thing.

What funny experiences they had! How, in particular, one horrid inquisitive, vulgar wretch had been boring a European fellow passenger who was going to Hymettus, finally asking him where he had come from last, and when he answered "Hymettus," thought the man was insulting him-- "But," interrupted the laughing Barker, "that passenger may have been Demorest, who has just come from Greece, and surely Kitty would have recognized him." Mrs.Horncastle instantly saw her blunder, and not only retrieved it, but turned it to account.

Ah, yes! but by that time poor Kitty, unused to long journeys and the heat, was utterly fagged out, was asleep, and perfectly unrecognizable in veils and dusters on the back seat of the coach.