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But we do not start," he exclaimed, excitedly; "we remain. Ach Gott, Selina, who does not arrive." Selina, it appeared, was a niece of Mrs. Sieppe's. They were on the point of starting without her, when she suddenly arrived, very much out of breath. She was a slender, unhealthy looking girl, who overworked herself giving lessons in hand-painting at twenty-five cents an hour.

Within a month after his departure from San Francisco, Marcus had "gone in on a cattle ranch" in the Panamint Valley with an Englishman, an acquaintance of Mr. Sieppe's. His headquarters were at a place called Modoc, at the lower extremity of the valley, about fifty miles by trail to the south of Keeler. His life was the life of a cowboy.

Trina kissed her father and mother, crying a little herself as she saw the tears in Mrs. Sieppe's eyes. Marcus came forward a second time, and, with an air of great gravity, kissed his cousin upon the forehead. Heise was introduced to Trina and Uncle Oelbermann to the dentist.

Trina burst in upon her mother while the latter was setting a mousetrap in the kitchen. "Oh, mamma!" "Eh? Trina? Ach, what has happun?" Trina told her in a breath. "Soh soon?" was Mrs. Sieppe's first comment. "Eh, well, what you cry for, then?" "I don't know," wailed Trina, plucking at the end of her handkerchief. "You loaf der younge doktor?" "I don't know." "Well, what for you kiss him?"

Between the pauses of the music one could hear the low tones of the minister, the responses of the participants, and the suppressed sounds of Mrs. Sieppe's weeping. Outside the noises of the street rose to the windows in muffled undertones, a cable car rumbled past, a newsboy went by chanting the evening papers; from somewhere in the building itself came a persistent noise of sawing.

But even while she hesitated about this she received a long letter from her mother, an answer to one she herself had written just before the amputation of her right-hand fingers the last letter she would ever be able to write. Mrs. Sieppe's letter was one long lamentation; she had her own misfortunes to bewail as well as those of her daughter.