Don Roberto and Mr. Polk took no part in these festivities; Mrs. Yorba and Magdal** took less and less; the picture made by Don Roberto in his shirt-sleeves, manipulating a hose as the char--banc drove off, finally forbade his wife to riot while her husband toiled. She was angry and resentful; but she was a woman of stern principles, and she had a certain measure of that sort of love for her husband which duty prompts in those who are without passion.
"I don't pretend to understand your father," she said to Magdal**. "The bees he gets in his bonnet are quite beyond me, but if he feels that way, he does, and that's the end of it; and he makes me feel uncomfortable all the time I am anywhere. I sha'n't go out again until he gets over this. You can go with somebody else."
"I would a great d
