On the private car.

DEAREST MAMMA,—­My spirits have quite recovered; you can’t imagine the fun we are having!  We only stayed the day in San Francisco to look round at those Golden Gates and other things.  The astonishing pluck of the people, reconstructing the whole town with twenty storey houses on the old sites!  One would think they would be afraid of their being earthquaked again, but not a bit, and the city part is nearly all re-made.  Everything being brand new is naturally not so interesting as the results of the tragedy, but you have read all about it so often there is no use my telling you.  We were shown one of the “graft” buildings, and one wonders how they were able to put it up without people seeing the tricks at the time.  There are numbers of ways to get rich, aren’t there?

Finally the whole party started for Los Angeles, passing down the coast.  A company of ten, five drawing-rooms were naturally impossible; indeed we could only get two, so this time Octavia and I insisted upon sleeping under the green curtains and let the girls have our drawing-room, because we wanted to see what it was like.  They said they often travelled like that, and did not mind a bit; but we insisted, and we felt quite excited when bed-time came!  Lola and the husband had the other drawing-room, and the Senator and Tom the section next to us on one side, and the Vicomte and secretary the one on the other, so we were well guarded.

We laughed so tremendously undressing;—­Lola let us take off the outside things with her and Agnes and Wilbor helping made so many remarks and fuss, we sent them off to their berths, and crept in dressing-gowns to our section, which was fortunately by the door.  Of course Gaston was waiting to know if he could be of any use, because he said I would remember he could be a “tres habile” lady’s maid years ago on the Sauterelle!  But we would not let him tuck us up, and so he got into his own and peeped out through the curtains while Tom and the Senator saw we were all right.

I had the top of ours, so had Gaston of theirs, and ever so many times he tapped on the division.  I do hope the other people thought it was a mouse; but when he began to give terrible sighs, and at last exclaimed, “Sapristi!” they must have wondered what was the matter.  He was so dreadfully tiresome and restless, the poor secretary could not get a wink of sleep, he told me to-day; and at last fearing he was ill he climbed up and offered him some brandy.  He must be a very good man, the secretary said, because he found him kneeling with his forehead pressed against the division which separated him from me, evidently saying his prayers.  Aren’t the French odd?  And when I asked him next day how he had slept he looked at me with eyes of the deepest reproach and said I had taken care he could not sleep; just as though it was I who was troublesome and snored!  Wasn’t it crazy of him, Mamma?  And since he has devoted himself entirely to Mercedes, and I am perfectly thankful, as very soon at the first mining town we are expecting Mr. Renour!