Mr. Lawrence Mechlin said: "We certainly were thinking nearly alike, Mr.

Darrell, with this difference, may-be, that I don't feel as hopeful as I did a few weeks ago, when you and I talked about the fair chances of the Texas Pacific as we looked at that same white dome when we were coming down. Now I am very fearful that the sad condition of the impoverished South is not going to have the weight which it deserves in the minds of this Congress. I talked with many of our law-givers about the matter, and all seemed not to realize the importance, the policy, the humanity of helping the South, and of giving to the Pacific Coast a competing railway, to get California out of the clutches of a grasping monopoly.

All agree that it ought to be done, but it looks as if few put their hearts into the matter."

"Their hearts are in their pockets, uncle, and I am afraid that after all our reluctance to believe that our Congressmen can be improperly influenced, we will have to submit-with shame and sorrow-and accept the fact that bribery has been at work, _successfully_. The chief of the lobby is king."

"Not yet-not yet. It is a frightful thought. Let us not accept it yet.

Let us think it is an error, but not knavery. I am coming down again, I think, before this session is over. I want to see more before I am convinced. I have my fears and my doubts, but I still hope-_must_ hope-that our Congress has many honest men."

"You can hope-but it will be in vain," George said; "the money of the Central Pacific Railroad will be too much for Colonel Scott."

"Don't be so desponding, boy."

"I can't have any hope in this Congress. There never can be any better arguments in favor of the Texas Pacific than are now plain to everybody.

So, then, if in the face of all these powerful considerations Congress turns it back and will not hear the wail of the prostrate South, or the impassionate appeals of California, now, _now_, when there is not one solitary reason under heaven why such appeals and entreaties should be disregarded, is there any ground to expect any better in the uncertain future? Certainly not. But still, I do not say that we should abandon all hope. For the sake of my father, who has trusted so much in the Texas Pacific, I am glad you will do all you can to help Colonel Scott."

"I certainly shall," Mr. Mechlin replied. Then, after a few minutes of silence, he said: "If our legislators could only be induced to adopt Herbert Spencer's view of _the duties of law-givers_, there would be far less misery in the United States. If they could but stop to see how clearly it stands to reason that 'legislative deductions must be based upon _fundamental morality_,' that 'the inferences of political economy are true, only because they are discoveries by a roundabout process of _what the moral law commands_.' It is an unfortunate mistake that the words '_moral law_' are generally understood to apply practically only to private conduct; to a man's fidelity to his marriage vows; to his religious belief; this we learn at school. But these words are only loosely applied (if at all) to a man's actions as a legislator. I never heard in election times that any one expects our law-givers to base their legislation upon _fundamental morality_, and regard expediency as a secondary consideration. Congressmen know that they are expected to watch the material interests of their States or counties, but they do not feel any moral responsibility to see that other _constituencies_ do not suffer injustice. Thus, if the Congressmen of one State choose to betray the rights of their constituencies, other Congressmen generally look on indifferently, or, perhaps, amused-and do not interfere any more than they would in the domestic affairs of perfect strangers. They do not seem to perceive that on the very instant in which they see that a community, or an individual, is being wronged by the neglect or design of their own representatives, that then any other Congressman should come forward to protect the betrayed community or defenseless citizen.

This is clearly their duty. But it seems to be ignored by tacit consent.

All Congressmen are ready to offer objections to every conceivable measure. To jump up and shout _against_ anything, seems to be thought the proof of a man being a good legislator. Combativeness is the one faculty ever in use to offer _obstructions_, and thus necessary and useful legislation is foolishly retarded, and untold misery is brought upon innocent citizens. All this is a mistake. Because the '_fundamental law of morality_' is not understood. Herbert Spencer says: 'Now, this that we call _moral law_ is simply a statement of the _conditions_ of beneficial action. Originating in the primary necessities of things, it is the development of these into a series of limitations within which all conduct conducive to the greatest happiness must be confined. To overstep such limitations is to disregard these necessities of things, to fight against the constitution of nature.' Mr. Spencer applies this axiom to the happiness of individuals, as well as of entire communities.

If the principles of fundamental morality were better understood and more conscientiously respected, railroad manipulators would find it impossible to organize a lobby to defeat all laws intended to aid the Texas Pacific. But I repeat, in spite of all discouragement, I will use my best efforts to help the Texas Pacific, as I firmly believe every honest man in these United States ought to do, even when not directly interested."

The journey to New York was accomplished safely by our party, and in good time for the charity ball. Mrs. Mechlin and Mrs. Gunther being in the list of its distinguished matrons, busied themselves about that grand affair from the day after their return until its successful _finale_, which was also a success pecuniarily.

To the charity ball follow the Liederkranz and the Purim.

"Are you to go masked, George?" Mrs. Mechlin asked, as they were discussing the coming ball with Miss Gunther.

"No, I think not. I think the best plan is to wear a domino and mask, as we go in with you ladies, so that you may not be recognized. Then after awhile we will leave you and go out into the vestibule and take off our masks and return unmasked."

"But why not keep masked?" Clarence asked.

"Because we will have no fun at all with masks on. The ladies not knowing who we are will have nothing to say to us. But if they see who we are, then they'll come and talk saucily, thinking we will not recognize them. We will, though, and then the fun begins."

"Nobody knows at home what my domino is to look like, but I think Bob will recognize my voice, and know who we all are, as he knows I am going with you," Miss Gunther said.

"But is he not to be of our party?" Mrs. Mechlin asked.

"No; he is going to escort Miss Selden. My brother Charles will be my escort. He will be in our secret, of course. How I wish we could mystify Bob."

"But we can't, if we speak to him, as he will recognize our voices, Mercedes and mine, by our accent immediately," Elvira said.

"You can mimic the German way of talking English, and Mercedes can talk half French and half English, with an Irish brogue," George suggested.

"She talks Irish brogue to perfection," Elvira said.

"But I'll have to practice before I would speak to him," said Mercedes.

"Practice every day-you have six days yet," Mrs. Mechlin said.

"Do, Miss Mercedes. I would like you to fool Bob," Miss Gunther said.

"But you must make your voice sound guttural. Your voice is naturally very musical. You must disguise it," George suggested.

Mercedes followed his suggestion, and by carefully imitating Mrs.

Mechlin's French maid (who spoke very broken English and stammered a good deal), she passed herself off for a stammering French girl, who was very talkative, in spite of the difficulty in her speech-maintaining her _role_ so well that neither Bob nor Arthur recognized her until she took off her mask. Then the faces of the two young men were a study. They both had paid most ardent compliments to her feet and hands, and had earnestly begged for the privilege of calling upon her, which she granted, promising to give the number of her house when she unmasked.

She had danced with both several times, and had asked them to present George and Clarence to her. Both of whom also asked her to dance, and while dancing had a good laugh at the expense of the two deluded ones.

When she unmasked, Selden left the ball in the midst of the peals of laughter from those who understood the joke. Bob stood his ground, with the crimson blush up to his ears and eyebrows.

"The fact of the matter is, that you will attract me always, no matter under what disguise," he whispered to Mercedes.

"_Pas si bete_," she answered, stammering fearfully, and looking the prettier for it.

The Liederkranz and Purim balls were highly enjoyed also, but Mercedes, though in domino, assumed no _role_. She was very amiable to Bob and Arthur, to heal the wound of their lacerated vanity.

The winter had now passed, and spring came-bringing to our Californians thoughts of returning home.

The sun was shining brightly on Madison Square-there had been a heavy shower that morning, in the early March-which had washed the snow off the pavements into the sewers, leaving the streets clean. Children were out with their nurses in the square, among the trees, which were trying hard to bud out, but as yet succeeded very poorly. Still, there were some little birds of sanguine temperament, chirping like good optimists about the ungainly, denuded branches, calculating philosophically on coming green leaves, though vegetation was slow to awake from its winter sleep.

Clarence, from his window at the hotel, saw that the day was bright, and hastened, in an open carriage, to take Elvira and Mercedes out for a drive in the park. They first went down for George, who had not yet left the bank.

"Did you get letters from home to-day?" Elvira asked.

"Yes; and among them a long one from Don Mariano," Clarence replied.

"What did he say? Any good news for poor papa?"

"He has just made twenty thousand dollars, any way, in spite of squatters. And he will make sixty thousand dollars more if he will do what I asked him in my letter to-day," Clarence said.

"How did he make twenty thousand dollars?" George asked, with a brightened look, which was reflected in the beautiful eyes of the sisters.

"By sending five hundred steers to Fred Haverly."

"Are five hundred steers worth that much?" George asked, surprised.

"Yes-at forty dollars per head-which for large cattle is not too high a price. That is what Fred has been paying for cattle weighing in the neighborhood of four hundred pounds."

"The best thing Don Mariano can do is to sell you all his cattle, even at half of this price," George said.

"That is what I have been writing to him to-day. As I have to buy cattle for the mines, and I am willing to pay him a good price, he ought to sell them all to me, and when he gets his rancho clear of trespassers then buy finer breeds and restock the rancho."

"A most excellent idea," George said.

Robert Gunther passed by, driving his four-in-hand at a furious speed, with a very handsome girl sitting by his side. He bowed as he passed.

Mercedes laughed, saying he looked "sheepish," and though he did not hear what she said, he blushed to the roots of his hair, and ran against a heavy carriage which slowly rolled ahead of him, loaded with four elderly ladies, who screamed terrified. This mishap only increased Bob's confusion, forcing him to check his speed.

"Do you want our assistance?" George asked, laughing.

"No, thanks. If people did not come to drive their funerals through the park, no one would run over them," Bob said.