It is hardly necessary to say that Carmen had never thought of connecting any act of hers with the claims of her uncle, and the circumstance of the signature she had totally forgotten.
The masculine reader will now understand Carmen's confusion and blushes, and believe himself an ass to have thought them a confession of original affection.

The feminine reader will, by this time, become satisfied that the deceitful minx's sole idea was to gain the affections of Thatcher.
And really I don't know who is right.
Nevertheless she painted a sketch of Thatcher,--which now adorns the Company's office in San Francisco,--in which the property is laid out in pleasing geometrical lines, and the rosy promise of the future instinct in every touch of the brush.

Then, having earned her "wage," as she believed, she became somewhat cold and shy to Thatcher.

Whereat that gentleman redoubled his attentions, seeing only in her presence a certain meprise, which concerned her more than himself.

The niece of his enemy meant nothing more to him than an interesting girl,--to be protected always,--to be feared, never.