trust of a dying widow—­perhaps the holiest trust that can be conceived by man—­the care and welfare of her helpless orphaned girl—­should be made the subject of mirth, sir, by yourself and the members of the Sacramento bar!  I shall not allude, sir, to my own feelings in regard to Dick Stannard, one of my most cherished friends,” continued the colonel, in a voice charged with emotion, “but I can conceive of no nobler trust laid upon the altar of friendship than the care and guidance of his orphaned girl!  And if, as you tell me, the utterly inadequate sum of three thousand dollars is all that is left for her maintenance through life, the selection of a guardian sufficiently devoted to the family to be willing to augment that pittance out of his own means from time to time would seem to be most important.”

Before the astounded Pyecroft could recover himself, Colonel Starbottle leaned back in his chair, half closing his eyes, and abandoned himself, quite after his old manner, to one of his dreamy reminiscences.

“Poor Dick Stannard!  I have a vivid recollection, sir, of driving out with him on the Shell Road at New Orleans in ’54, and of his saying, ’Star’—­the only man, sir, who ever abbreviated my name—­’Star, if anything happens to me or her, look after our child!  It was during that very drive, sir, that, through his incautious neglect to fortify himself against the swampy malaria by a glass of straight Bourbon with a pinch of bark in it, he caught that fever which undermined his constitution.  Thank you, Mr. Pyecroft, for—­er—­recalling the circumstance.  I shall,” continued the colonel, suddenly abandoning reminiscence, sitting up, and arranging his papers, “look forward with great interest to—­er—­letter from the executor.”

The next day it was universally understood that Colonel Starbottle had been appointed guardian of Pansy Stannard by the probate judge of Sacramento.

There are of record two distinct accounts of Colonel Starbottle’s first meeting with his ward after his appointment as her guardian.  One, given by himself, varying slightly at times, but always bearing unvarying compliment to the grace, beauty, and singular accomplishments of this apparently gifted child, was nevertheless characterized more by vague, dreamy reminiscences of the departed parents than by any personal experience of the daughter.

“I found the young lady, sir,” he remarked to Mr. Pyecroft, “recalling my cherished friend Stannard in—­er—­form and features, and—­although—­er—­personally unacquainted with her deceased mother—­who belonged, sir, to one of the first families of Virginia—­I am told that she is—­er—­remarkably like her.  Miss Stannard is at present a pupil in one of the best educational establishments in Santa Clara, where she is receiving tuition in—­er—­the English classics, foreign belles lettres, embroidery, the harp, and—­er—­the use of the—­er—­globes, and—­er—­blackboard—­under the most fastidious care, and my own personal supervision.