I didn't get to see if there was any gold-dust in it," he continued, with great archness, and a fatherly pinch of her cheek; "though I suspect that isn't the kind of currency he sends to you." "It IS from Mr.Corbin," said Miss Sally, taking it with a languid kind of doubt; "and only now, paw, I was just thinking that I'd sort of drop writing any more; it makes a good deal of buzzing amongst the neighbors, and I don't see much honey nor comb in it." "Eh," said the Captain, apparently more astonished than delighted at his daughter's prudence.

"Well, child, suit yourself! It's mighty mean, though, for I was just thinking of telling you that Judge Read is an old friend of this Colonel Starbottle, who is your friend's friend and lawyer, and he says that Colonel Starbottle is WITH US, and working for the cause out there, and has got a list of all the So'thern men in California that are sound and solid for the South.

Read says he shouldn't wonder if he'd make California wheel into line too." "I don't see what that's got to do with Mr.Corbin," said the young girl, impatiently, flicking the still unopened letter against the packet in her hand.
"Well," said the Captain, with cheerful vagueness, "I thought it might interest you,--that's all," and lounged judicially away.
"Paw thinks," said Miss Sally, still standing in the doorway, ostentatiously addressing her pet goshawk, but with one eye following her retreating parent, "Paw thinks that everybody is as keen bent on politics as he is.

There's where paw slips up, Jim." Re-entering the room, scratching her little nose thoughtfully with the edge of Mr.Corbin's letter, she went to the mantelpiece and picked up a small ivory-handled dagger, the gift of Joyce Masterton, aged eighteen, presented with certain verses addressed to a "Daughter of the South," and cut open the envelope.

The first glance was at her own name, and then at the signature.