She shuddered slightly and cast her eyes over the monotonous sea of _tule_ and meadow.
"It doesn't look pretty, perhaps," continued Poindexter, "but it's the richest land in the State, and the _embarcadero_ will some day be a town.

I suppose you'll call it Blue Grassville.

But you seem tired!" he said, suddenly dropping his voice to a tone of half humorous sympathy.
Mrs.Tucker managed to get rid of an impending tear under the pretense of clearing her eyes.

"Are we nearly there ?" she asked.
"Nearly.

You know," he added, with the same half mischievous, half sympathizing gayety, "it's not exactly a palace you're coming to,--hardly.