A result on which I am not ashamed to say I looked with gratitude and pride. Some eight thousand (being late conquest) was liquid and actually tractile in the bank; the rest whirled beyond reach and even sight (save in the mirror of a balance-sheet) under the compelling spell of wizard Pinkerton. Dollars of mine were tacking off the shores of Mexico, in peril of the deep and the guarda-costas; they rang on saloon-counters in the city of Tombstone, Arizona; they shone in faro-tents among the mountain diggings; the imagination flagged in following them, so wide were they diffused, so briskly they span to the turning of the wizard's crank. But here, there, or everywhere I could still tell myself it was all mine, and—what was more convincing—draw substantial dividends. My fortune, I called it; and it represented, when expressed in dollars, or even British pounds, an honest pot of money; when extended into francs, a veritable fortune. Perhaps I have let the cat out of the bag; perhaps you see already where my hopes were pointing, and begin to blame my inconsistency. But I must first tell you my excuse, and the change that had befallen Pinkerton.
About a week after the picnic to which he escorted Mamie, Pinkerton avowed the state of his affections. From what I had observed on board the steamer—where methought Mamie waited on him with her limpid eyes—I encouraged the bashful lover to proceed; and the very next evening he was carrying me to call on his affianced.
“You must befriend her, Loudon, as you have always befriended me,” he said, pathetically.
“By saying disagreeable things? I doubt if that be the way to a young lady's favour,” I replied; “and since this picnicking I begin to be a man of some experience.”
“Yes, you do nobly there; I can't describe how I admire you,” he cried. “Not that she will ever need
