"You are a strange girl, then."

"Why so? Why should I wish men to fall in love with me, when I cannot return their love?" said Mercedes, evidently vexed.

"You are the first girl I ever saw that did not want to have admirers; yes, loads of them."

"Admirers and friends, yes; but you spoke of those young men being _in love_. Now, if I thought so, I would be very sorry, and, as I do not wish to be unhappy, I hope you are mistaken."

The Misses Selden laughed incredulously.

"In my opinion, no kind-hearted girl ought to desire to be loved except by the one she loves. Else, she must be a very heartless creature, who enjoys the miseries of others," added she, earnestly. "Now, I want you to know, I am not cruel; I am not heartless; so I do not wish any man (but one) to be in love with me."

"You are right, my dear," Mrs. Gunther interposed. "But the trouble is, you are too pretty, too sweet, to be let alone; you can't help being loved."

"Then I am unlucky, that's all," she said, with trembling lips, "and the sooner I go home, the better it will be for mutual comfort."

Robert Gunther was talking with Elvira, but he had not lost one word of this conversation. In the evening they went to a Presidential reception.

It happened that he was near Mercedes when Elvira proposed to go and see the flowers in the conservatory; he offered her his arm, and they followed Elvira. He had spoken very few words to her since they returned from Newport, but had watched her and feasted his eyes on her loveliness. Now, after walking in silence for some time, he said:

"It is a sad sort of consolation to know that you regret inspiring hopeless love. I heard your conversation with the Misses Selden this morning. I thank you for not enjoying my misery."

"Oh! how could I do that? I wish I could make you happy; please forgive me if I have ever caused you pain?" said she in the sweetest of pleading tones. He looked at her sweet face, turned toward his, and his love for her seemed to rush upon him like an overwhelming wave-like a hot flame rising to his brain.

"Oh! Mercedes, it is frightful how much I love you! What shall I do to conquer this unfortunate infatuation?"

"Forget me; I shall soon be away-far away."

"Oh! darling, I would rather suffer seeing you, than to have your sweet presence withdrawn from my sight. You see my unfortunate situation? I vow it is awful to love so hopelessly! But I shall never talk to you of my love again. I see I pain you," he added, seeing that she trembled and looked pained. "Forgive me, for I am very wretched. My life will now be a blank."

"I wish you could feel for me, as you do toward Elvira. How I envy her your friendship," she said, in very low tones.

"Do you, truly?"

"Indeed I do. I would be so happy."

"I shall try. But how can I, loving you so ardently?"

"As a proof of your love, try to be my friend-only a friend."

"You ask of my love a suicide-to kill itself. Be it so. I shall try,"

said he with a sad smile. "The request is rather novel, but perhaps it might be done. I doubt it. I suppose you will be my friend then?"

"I am that now-most sincerely," said she, earnestly.

On leaving the conservatory, they saw Clarence coming to meet them. He joined Elvira and walked by her side.

"Thanks, Mr. Darrell. I am glad you have good sense," said Gunther, addressing the back and broad shoulders of Clarence from the distance.

Mercedes laughed and felt herself regaining her composure.

They had now been in Washington ten days, and the ladies of the party had only made one very hurried visit to the Capitol. This day Mrs.

Mechlin had set apart "to devote to Congress," she said, and it was arranged that they would go in the morning, would lunch at the Capitol, and remain part of the afternoon. A debate on the Texas Pacific Bill was expected that day, and the Mechlins, as well as Clarence and Mercedes, wished to hear it. The President of the Senate put his rooms at the service of Mrs. Mechlin and friends. Thus the ladies had a delightful time, taking a recess in the President's parlor when they liked, or strolling through the corridors, or sitting in the galleries.

After luncheon, the party, walking toward the public reception room, were met by five or six old men with very white beards. Two of them walked slowly as if weakened by sickness, one walked on crutches, and one had lost an arm, his coat-sleeve being pinned to his breast. Mr.

Mechlin stopped to shake hands with them, saying to his wife to go on, that he wished to speak with these gentlemen. On rejoining the party, Mr. Mechlin was asked by Miss Gunther where these venerable old gentlemen came from.

"They looked like a little troop of patriarchs," Miss Selden added.

"What can they want at the Capitol?"

"They want bread," Mr. Mechlin replied. "Those men should be pensioned by our Government, but it is not done because Congress has not seen fit to do it. The three oldest of those men are veterans of the Mexican War.

For twenty-five years they have been asking the Government to grant them a pension, a little pittance to help them along in their old age, but it is not done. Year after year the same prayers and remonstrances are repeated in vain. Congress well knows how valuable were the services of those who went to Mexico to conquer a vast domain; but, now we have the domain, we don't care to be grateful or just. It would perhaps be a matter of perfect indifference to half of our Congress should they hear that all those poor veterans died of starvation."

CHAPTER XXI.-_Looking at the Receding Dome._

There was one thing that the gay New Yorkers, under Mrs. Mechlin's _chaperoning_, had to do before they left the capital. They must make an excursion across the Potomac to Arlington, and visit the tomb of Washington. Patriotism, she said, imposed this duty upon them, which must be fulfilled with due reverence.

"Therefore," Mrs. Mechlin added, "they would have a picnic under the glorious trees in the Arlington grounds."

"Let our libations be on that sacred spot," said George; "we will pour wine on the grave of Washington-that is, we will go close to it and drink it."

"You mean that we will drink the wine and rub the bottle devoutly upon the monument, as the Irish woman did when she cured her rheumatism," Bob Gunther added.

"It is awful how unpatriotic and irreverent are the young men nowadays,"

Miss Gunther said.

"Yes; it makes me weep," added Arthur Selden, blinking.

There would be a day or two before the picnic, and Mercedes told George she wanted to go to the dome of the Capitol, and see Washington City from that elevated place.

"The little puss shall have her wish," George said, and on the following day all the party drove again to the Capitol, and walked through labyrinths of dark corridors leading into committee rooms or may-be into solemn judicial halls, where justice sat holding the scales in terrific silence. Emerging from the cool, musty air of the lower halls, they again visited the upper rooms and galleries, which Elvira and Mercedes liked better than on their former visits. Now all ascended to the highest point they could go, and their exertions were amply rewarded by the pleasure of seeing the beautiful panorama at their feet. Washington City has been viewed and reviewed, and too minutely described to be considered any longer interesting to Eastern people, but to our Californians the view of that city of proud and symmetric proportions, with its radiating avenues lost in diminishing distances, its little triangular parks and haughty edifices, all making a picturesque _ensemble_, was most pleasing and startling.

With Clarence by her side, Mercedes looked carefully at the city that like a magnificent picture lay there beneath them. She wished to carry it photographed in her memory.

The picnic to Arlington was much enjoyed by all. Mercedes would have preferred to walk over the grounds of Mount Vernon with Clarence alone, for her love was of that pure character which longs to associate the cherished object with every thought and feeling having its source in our highest faculties. She thought Mount Vernon ought to be visited reverently, and she knew Clarence would not laugh at her for thinking so. But, alas! those other young gentlemen had no such thoughts. They were in high glee, determined to have fun, and enjoy it; and though Mercedes and Miss Gunther told them they were behaving like vandals, such rebukes only increased their merriment, which continued even after they recrossed the Potomac.

Mr. Mechlin's party had at last to tear itself away from Washington, and hurry to New York, for the "charity ball" was to come off in a few days; then the Liederkranz and the Purim balls would follow-all in the month of February-and Mrs. Mechlin wished that Elvira and Mercedes should see them all. They had been at masked balls in Washington at the house of a Senator and of a foreign minister, but Mrs. Mechlin said that no masked balls in America could or did equal those given in New York at the Academy of Music, consequently it became an absolute necessity that these two young ladies should see those grand affairs. Moreover, she was one of the matrons of the charity ball, and her presence was indispensable to attend to their management.

A special car was again in readiness, and the Mechlin party occupied it one morning at eight o'clock. The party was now increased by the addition of six ladies and eight gentlemen from Washington, who were going to attend the charity ball and Liederkranz. The train was in motion, going out of the city limits, accelerating its speed as it plunged into the woods beyond. George and Clarence sat at one end of the car, separate from the company, looking at the Capitol, as it seemed to retreat, flying with receding celerity. The woods were beginning to intercept its view at times-the dome would disappear and reappear again and again above the surrounding country.

Mr. Mechlin joined the two young men, saying to them, as he turned the seat in front, and sat facing them: "You are watching the receding Capitol. I was doing the same. I wonder whether your thoughts were like mine in looking at that proud edifice?"

"I think my thoughts were about the same subject, uncle. What were your thoughts, Darrell? Tell us," George said.

"I was thinking of your father and of Don Mariano-thinking that under that white shining dome their fate would be decided perhaps, as they both have embarked so hopefully in the boat of the Texas Pacific Railroad."

George and his uncle looked at each other as if saying, "We all were of the same mind, surely."