Chapter 2

"AN INVESTMENT, ANYWAY."

The natural result of these efforts was, that Miss Belinda was moved to
shed a few tears.

"I hope you will excuse my being too startled to say I was glad to see
you," she said. "I have not seen my brother for thirty years, and I was
very fond of him."

"He said you were," answered Octavia; "and he was very fond of you too.
He didn't write to you, because he made up his mind not to let you hear
from him until he was a rich man; and then he thought he would wait until
he could come home, and surprise you. He was awfully disappointed when he
had to go back without seeing you."

"Poor, dear Martin!" wept Miss Belinda gently. "Such a journey!"

Octavia opened her charming eyes in surprise.

"Oh, he'll come back again!" she said. "And he doesn't mind the journey.
The journey is nothing, you know."

"Nothing!" echoed Miss Belinda. "A voyage across the Atlantic nothing?
When one thinks of the danger, my dear"--

Octavia's eyes opened a shade wider.

"We have made the trip to the States, across the Isthmus, twelve times,
and that takes a month," she remarked. "So we don't think ten days much."

"Twelve times!" said Miss Belinda, quite appalled. "Dear, dear, dear!"

And for some moments she could do nothing but look at her young relative
in doubtful wonder, shaking her head with actual sadness.

But she finally recovered herself, with a little start.

"What am I thinking of," she exclaimed remorsefully, "to let you sit here
in this way? Pray excuse me, my dear. You see I am so upset."

She left her chair in a great hurry, and proceeded to embrace her young
guest tenderly, though with a little timorousness. The young lady
submitted to the caress with much composure.

"Did I upset you?" she inquired calmly.

The fact was, that she could not see why the simple advent of a relative
from Nevada should seem to have the effect of an earthquake, and result
in tremor, confusion, and tears. It was true, she herself had shed a tear
or so, but then her troubles had been accumulating for several days; and
she had not felt confused yet.

When Miss Belinda went down-stairs to superintend Mary Anne in the
tea-making, and left her guest alone, that young person glanced about her
with a rather dubious expression.

"It is a queer, nice little place," she said. "But I don't wonder that pa
emigrated, if they always get into such a flurry about little things. I
might have been a ghost."

Then she proceeded to unlock the big trunk, and