“No, but they have for servants Hogsden and his wife, and they are very dishonorable. They would repeat it if by accident they heard it.”
“It is a pity that Mrs. Mechlin don't send those two thieves away,” Victoriano said.
“Yes, I hear that the woman Hogsden repeats things she hears at the Mechlins,” Clarence said.
“Of course she does, and steals too, and yet Mrs. Mechlin keeps them,” Victoriano said, impatiently.
“Perhaps it would be best to say nothing, and I will watch my chance to tell my father myself, that I paid for the land,” Clarence said. He then rose to go.
As he went down the veranda steps he met Milord returning, still dragging the skein of silk. But this was no longer of bright variegated hues, it was black with mud and sadly masticated by Milord's sharp teeth, which proudly held it as if challenging any one to take it.
“You wicked Milord. See what you have done with your poor mistress' silk. She will be distressed,” said Victoriano.
On hearing himself thus apostrophised, Milord ran off again with his plunder, and it was with difficulty that by the combined efforts of Victoriano and Clarence he was at last captured, but the bright colors of the silk had all disappeared, a blackened skein resembling a piece of wet rope was pulled from Milord's sharp teeth.
CHAPTER VII.—From Alameda to San Diego.
The Darrell house was now finished, the furniture had arrived, been unpacked and distributed in the rooms, but the house seemed to old Darrell entirely too sumptuous for the plain folks, that his family ought to be. That was a truth.