completed branch in Viola's education, and in this she was as proficient as she was ignorant of all pertaining to business and the investment or disposal of money. If she could find employment she would put her money away—tie it up in an old glove, and hide it in the bottom of her trunk. Mrs. Seymour had refused to allow her to leave until she had positively arranged for a place of abode which would be waiting and ready for her. Under the direction of that sensible woman, Viola had written and engaged one of Mrs. Cassidy's upper back rooms—it being the only place of its kind in the city where she knew the people.
The evening before her departure the last leaf was added to this momentous and miserable Sacramento chapter. Meeting her in the sitting-room, Bart Nelson had detained her and made a halting and bashful offer of marriage. Viola, too stunned by the terrible surprise of the past week to have room for any more astonishment, had listened to him indifferently, and then politely but coldly refused him.
The young man seemed to be astonished. He looked at her incredulously.
"But—but," he stammered, "what are you going to do?"
"I 'm going to San Francisco to-morrow," she answered, rather wearily, as she knew he was aware of her purpose.
