The journey back to Hot Creek was too divinely beautiful, in spite of two broken tyres which delayed us. The view this way is indescribably grand and vast—the sunset a pale magenta turning into crimson, and the sky a blue turning to green, the desert grey, and the mountains beyond deepest violet turning to sapphire and peacock blue. Does not it sound as if I were romancing, Mamma! But it was really so, and luminous and clear, so that we could see perhaps a hundred miles, all a vast sea of sage brush. The Senator sat by me this time, and Octavia, while Nelson went in front with the chauffeur, and the Senator held my arm and kept my sore shoulder from getting shaken; and he seemed such a comfort and so strong, and he asked us if we had enjoyed our trip in spite of the catastrophe last night, and we both said we had, and all the more on account of it, because it was lovely seeing the real thing. And he said it was a chance in a thousand, as all the camps were so orderly now, not as in Bret Harte, or as it was in his young days. And he said both Octavia and I would make splendid miners' wives not to be squeamish or silly over the "carrion" that was shot, and not to have trembling nerves today. We felt so pleased, and only that underneath I can't help being sad about Nelson, we should all have been very gay. It was about nine o'clock when we reached the car and Marcus Aurelius's welcoming smiles, and an appetising supper. And now I am writing to you to post where we stop in the morning. We only stay one day in Osages and then go on our way to the tarpons at last, and the joys of Mexico. It has been all more than delightful, and I do hope the Americans like us as much as we like them; from East to here we have received nothing but exquisite courtesy and kindness, and I can never tell you what a grand and open and splendid nation they are, Mamma, or how little understood in Europe. All their faults are the faults of youth, as I said before; and everyone will admit youth is a gift of the gods.

Now, good-night, dearest Mamma.

Fond love to all,

From your affectionate daughter,

ELIZABETH.

Morning.

P.S.—The Senator's mail caught us up at the only station we passed, and in the packets of letters for everyone was another from Jane Roose for me saying more odious insinuations about Mrs. Smith and Harry. I feel perfectly sick, Mamma, and I shan't be good any more. I will never speak to him again, and shall just divorce him, become a naturalized American and marry some lovely millionaire.

Osages again.

DEAREST MAMMA,—I am so fearfully excited I can hardly write. Listen! We got back here late in the afternoon, as we stopped at a place by the way where the Senator had business, and while I was up in my room dressing for dinner, in the worst temper I ever remember, still feeling so furious over Jane Roose's words, a noise of quick footsteps was heard in the passage, and without even a knock someone tried the door, which was naturally locked. Agnès in fear and trembling went to it, as from the tale of the night at Moonbeams, she thought, I suppose, it was another desperado. I was too cross to look round until I heard her scream: "Milor!" and then I saw a vision of Harry in the door way!!! In a grey flannel suit and a slouchy felt hat, looking just like a lovely miner.

Nothing in my life has ever given me such an emotion, Mamma. And do you know I forgot all about injured pride, or Mrs. Smith or anything, and rushed into his arms. We were both perfectly incoherent with passionate joy, and just think! There was not a word of truth in it all! That creature never was on the ship, and Harry only landed in Africa and got a cable from you saying I had started for America and he caught another steamer that was sailing that night, and gave up his lions and everything, and just flew after me, and when in New York he heard we had gone out West and Gaston was one of the party, he nearly went mad with rage, and as I told you before he would, he came out here with the intention of at least beating me and shooting the Vicomte. But when we had had hundreds of kisses, and I could stay quietly in his arms, we explained everything, and we have both said we are sorry, and I love him a thousand times more than ever, and he says he will never let me out of his sight again for the rest of our lives. And we are crazily happy, Mamma, and I can't write any more, only we are not going on to Mexico, but straight home to Valmond; and please bring Hurstbridge and Ermyntrude to meet us at Liverpool when the Lusitania gets in.