We have two tables of four for meals, and whichever two have been naughty we put at a little one by themselves; and it is generally Tom and Columbia.  They are getting on splendidly, and Octavia is so pleased, as she was afraid Tom might grow bored and give up the trip and go straight on to Mexico:  Englishman can’t stay long without killing things, can they, Mamma, and they never think about their wives’ pleasure, as the Americans do.  The dear Senator divides himself between Octavia and me, and when she has the secretary she gets him to give her information about the country, and we are all as happy as possible.  Mr. Renour is bringing a friend with him, so that will make twelve.  The coast is pretty, but I can’t describe scenery, especially as all of this has been done dozens of times before, and also, though it is beautiful, it is rather of a sameness; and half the time, having been so long in the train we did not look out, there are such a number of amusing things to do in a party like this.

Lola’s husband is a poor creature; how she adores him as she does is a mystery; he simply “don’t amount to anything;” only he is beautifully dressed, like an Englishman, and has as nice socks as Harry.  The Senator, without asking me any questions, has soothed me so that I am not feeling as cross as I was, though I am determined not to go near Harry again for months and months.  When we get back, if he is still in Africa with that creature, I shall take the children for a voyage round the world.  He shall see he can’t behave like a brute to me with impunity.  But yesterday morning when that silly little Vinerhorn wore a shirt of Charvet’s of exactly the same silk as I chose Harry last in Paris, a nasty feeling came in my throat, and I seemed to see his blue eyes flashing angry flames at me like when we said good-bye.

Just think, Mamma, all these years since I have been married I have never so much as looked at anyone else.  He has kept me knowing hardly anything more of the world than I did then.  But I am not going to stay stupid I can assure you!  If he can go off to Africa with Mrs. Smith, why can’t I play with Mr. Renour?

(I am tired of Gaston, really.)

The second night in the train was quite peaceful.  We went to bed before they came in from smoking, and Octavia had the top berth and heard nothing, so I suppose the Vicomte said his prayers with his forehead glued against the other side.  And when we arrived at Los Angeles there was the private car.  It is so comfortable.  The salon at the end has an observation veranda on it, and at night three berths let down in it for three of the men, and in the dining-room three others can sleep.  The Senator has a tiny place to himself.  The Vinerhorns, who never will be separated, have one cabin, and Tom and Octavia the other.  Octavia says she likes experiences, and she had no idea Tom could be so handy, for Wilbor and Agnes and all the valets have been sent on to the