So _she's_ the
lady? Well, that makes it harder! 'Tisn't everything would do for _her_. I
guess she's rather special."
"I guess so, too. That was what worried me. Because it's for the honour of
California that a foreigner should be supplied, even at a moment's notice,
with something as good as she could get at home."
"If not better," Jessy corrected him.
"If not better. Of course, if an American lady lost her baggage she'd make
allowances, being at home. And if she couldn't get what she wanted, she'd
be good-natured and want what she could get. Well, this lady's
good-natured, too; but it's no compliment to the Yosemite for her to
expect little and have what she expects."
"No. We must surprise her."
"Exactly. For the honour of California. Let's mingle our brains," said
Nick.
"I guess they'll be more useful kept separate, sir; each along its own
line."
"Does yours keep a line of the right thing?"
"It begins to see its way there. We've a lady staying in the hotel, Mrs.
Everett, from San Francisco, who's got what we want. Mrs. Everett's a
Native Daughter, too. Oh, yes, she'll spare one--her prettiest. Don't you
worry, and don't you say a word to your friend. I and Mrs. Everett will do
the rest. When that lady from Europe opens her door to-night she'll see
lying on her bed something that'll keep her from knowing the difference
between the Yosemite Valley and Paris.
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