A Little Girl in Old San Francisco

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE DECISION OF FATE

  Pablo told them the heart-breaking news. But about eight o'clock UncleJason returned. The fire was out, there were only heaps of smokingashes and smouldering brands. Jason Chadsey had been warmlysympathized with, proffered assistance to rebuild, to recommencebusiness, and would have been deluged with whiskey if he had accepted.That was still a panacea for all ills and troubles. But he refused,and wandered about in dogged silence. No one knew the whole loss.

  In the farther office desk he had slipped a box with a string ofpearls for his darling's birthday. Some one had said pearls were forblondes, and in spite of much out-of-door living, she had kept herbeautiful complexion. Then crushed by the astounding news, he hadforgotten about it.

  "Oh, Uncle Jason!" Grimed as he was with smoke and cinders, she flewto his arms, and sobbed out her sorrow.

  "There, there, dear." His voice had the stress of fatigue and greatemotion. "I am not fit to touch. And I can't talk now. I am tired todeath. Give me a cup of coffee."

  "I don't believe I will go to school to-day," she said, with finedisregard of rules. "And yet I ought. There are the translations to behanded in."

  "Yes, do go. I must get some rest."

  "I'll come home at noon," kissing him fondly.

  He nodded. He was a broken old man in what should have been the primeof life. He drank his coffee, then took the whiskey he had refuseddown on the dock, went to his room, and after a good cool wash, threwhimself on the bed.

  The fire was on everybody's tongue. Not that fires were a rarity. Butthis might have been much worse, yet it was bad enough for JasonChadsey. The air was still full of smoke, there was a dense fog and acloudy sky. Everywhere you heard the same talk.

  The lessons at school went on well enough, though Laverne's nerveswere all of a tremble. Just after eleven as recess began she wassummoned to the reception room.

  David Westbury had been out to the fire and come in again.

  "Gad!" he exclaimed. "It's that Chadsey's place! And he had atremendous stock, a new shipload just in, some others waiting to beloaded up. This is a queer town where every so often there's a bigfire. The only amends is that it is rebuilt better. Half of the oldrookeries ought to come down, they look so forlorn and ancient."

  "Oh, David. Well, if he has lost everything he will be the morewilling to give up the girl."

  "He will give her up, anyhow," in a determined tone. Some thingsChadsey had said still rankled in David Westbury's mind.

  He went downtown again. Yes, it was ruin sure enough. Being prosperousnow, he could afford to pity the unfortunate ones. Chadsey had gonehome. The police were in charge, to keep off the roughs and thethieves.

  "We must have the matter settled to-day," he declared to his wife.

  "I know where she is at school. Let us go there."

  "Excellent. I should like to see her alone. It is right that sheshould hear my story."

  So to the school they went. Laverne came in a little flurried, and yetbewitching in her simple girlhood. Her bodice was rather low about thethroat, with some edging around, and a band of black velvet encircledher white neck. Her skirt was ankle length, and the man noted hertrim, slender feet, with the high arch of the instep.

  Mrs. Westbury kissed her with warmth and tenderness. Her eyes wereluminous this morning, and the flushes showed above the delicatelytinted cheeks; her whole air was pleading, enchanting.

  "You know I said there was a strange story for you to hear," sheexclaimed, when they had talked at length about the fire. "Mr.Westbury will tell you."

  He began to pace up and down, as was his habit, so slowly that it gavehim an air of thoughtfulness. Mrs. Westbury had her arm aroundLaverne.

  "Yes, a rather curious story, yet numbers of these instances crop outalong life. Friends, often relatives are reunited, tangled threads arestraightened, mysteries explained. In a little village in Maine liveda girl and her two friends, they were a little too old for realschoolmates. Her name was Laverne Dallas."

  Why, that was her mother's name. And Maine. She began to listenattentively, just as one pieces out a dream that has nearly escapedfrom memory. And Westbury! Why, she had forgotten she ever had anyother name than Chadsey--it was her story as well, and now she lookedat the man, who certainly had nothing repellant about him, and thestory of those early years was pathetic as he lent it severalappealing embellishments. She really could not remember him with anydistinctness. The death of her grandmother, the pale, reserved mother,coughing and holding on to her side, the coming of Uncle Jason, who itseemed was no uncle at all, her mother's death, and all the rest wasschool and play.

  "Oh! Oh!" she cried, and hid her face on Mrs. Westbury's shoulder.

  "So you see you are my little daughter. Your own mother is not here tocare for you and make you happy, but here is a new mother, who haslearned to love you unaware. And now we are returning to London, andwill take you with us, and give you the life that rightly belongs toyou----"

  "Oh, no, no," she interrupted with poignant pathos. "I cannot go. Icould not leave Uncle Jason in this sad loss and trouble. He has beenso good, so kind, so tender----"

  "As if an own father could not be that! Laverne, my darling, my ownlittle girl!"

  If he had been poor he would have thought any child a great burden. Hewas not the sort of man to make sacrifices for any one. They wouldhave irked him terribly. But in prosperity he was very indulgent.There are many such people. Jason Chadsey would have shared his lastdollar, his last crust, ungrudgingly.

  They began to set the matter before her in a reasonable, practicallight. Henceforward she would be a burden on Mr. Chadsey, who hadalready done so much for her. She would have in her parents' careaccomplishments, travel, society, a lovely home, pleasures of allkinds, and now she was old enough to enjoy them. And they wanted her.Her father had the lawful right, would have until she was of age.

  "I must go home," she said at length. "It is so strange. I must thinkit over. And if Uncle Jason wants me----"

  "And we want you." Agnes Westbury gave her a tender embrace, as shewiped the tears from her own eyes. They could not be allowed to runriot down the cheeks as Laverne's were doing.

  She rose unsteadily.

  "Have you no word for me, your father?"

  She went to the outstretched arms and hid her face on his breast. Shecould not love all at once. She could not break Uncle Jason's heart.

  "I know it must seem strange, but I think Mr. Chadsey will recognizemy right in you. We must see him----"

  "To-morrow, then," she interrupted. "Let me have this afternoon toconsider, to talk."

  Her voice trembled from exhaustion. She took a few unsteady steps. Thenoon bells began to ring, and again she said she must go.

  They importuned her to accompany them to the Folsom House to dinner,but she would not consent. Then her father insisted that she shouldhave a hack, but she refused that strenuously. They walked togethersome distance.

  "Arrangements must be made to-morrow morning," her father saidauthoritatively. She felt as if she had been metamorphosed into someother person. Laverne Westbury! it made her shiver. She liked the oldpersonality so much better. Must she go away? This was all the realhome she had ever known, this strange, odd, ever-changing Old SanFrancisco. Why, over here there was a row of tents when they firstcame. And the queer little one-room and two-room adobe houses, and thetangled-up streets that ended at some one's house. How plainly shecould see it all!

  She began to climb the hill wearily. Then some one came to meet her,helped her tenderly over the rough places. They did not pause at thehouse, but took the winding path up to the pine tree that grew morebeautiful every year, with its shining needles and gray-green, fuzzybuds, almost like little kittens rolling and tumbling in the wind.Balder the beautiful was resting here. Here Victor had really saidgood-by to her. Why, Victor was in London. And suddenly London seemedto emerge from the gloom of the Tower, and the execution of KingCharles and a hundred other m
elancholy reminiscences.

  "Laverne!" her uncle began.

  "Oh, I know! I know! They both came to school. They told meeverything. But I shall not go. Do you think I could be so ungrateful,so heartless now in all this trouble? And I love you. It is years oflove between us, and only a few weeks with them. Oh, no, no!"

  There was a long silence. A vireo came and sang his merry lilt in thetree overhead. The fog and a good deal of the smoke had cleared away,and the sun was shining.

  He was very glad of the love. It would comfort him all the rest of theweary way.

  "Listen, child," he said at length, and he went carefully over theground. The strongest point of all was that the law would give her toher father the next four years. And now he would have to start in anewand make another fortune. "I am not too old," he declared, with alittle pride.

  A word had caught her, just as one catches a ball with a chain atcareless throw.

  "Four years," she said. "Why, then when I am twenty-one I could comeback. Four years only! Will you be waiting for me? I shall surelycome."

  She would be married before that. A pretty young girl with a fortunewas not likely to be left on the bush. He caught at it, too. It wouldsmooth the way since the parting had to be. He had nothing; Westburyhad it all.

  "Oh," she cried impulsively, "I can think how you loved my mother. Wasshe happy there at the last with you? But you two should have beenmarried, and I should have been your child. Why do things, wishes,events go at cross-purposes?"

  Alas! no one could tell. It was one of the great world's mysteries.

  Miss Holmes summoned them to dinner presently. She had heard thestory, and though it was hard, they had to admit that the childbelonged to her father while she was under age.

  Half the night Laverne thought she would defy them all and stay. Wouldher father want to drag her away a prisoner? What was a father's lovelike? Wasn't the playing at it better and holier; the sense of losssomewhere else making it diviner, giving it a yearning that a fullright could never quite embody? She did not like the full right to betaken, she would rather be coaxed a little and led along. And shecould not positively decide about Mrs. Westbury. Some girls she foundwere quite extravagant in their protestations and then forgot. Olivewas one; there was another very sweet girl in school who wanted alwaysto be caressing the one she liked. Isola was not always demonstrative.They did have some delightful quiet times. Were not women girls grownlarger and older?

  It was strange, Laverne thought, how nearly every one was ranged onMr. Westbury's side. The Personettes admired him, Mrs. Folsomconsidered him a gentleman, and at that time the term was acompliment. The schoolgirls envied her the romance and the goingabroad. Even Miss Holmes thought it the right and proper thing to do.Uncle Jason did not discuss the right, with him there was nothing elseto do.

  Other matters troubled him. Property had been queerly held in thecity. There had been squatters, there had been old Mexican deeds,claims coming up every now and then to be settled with difficulty.Jason Chadsey had leased the ground and the waterfront when it hadnot been very valuable. He had bought one building, erected others. Ina year more the lease would expire. Already large prices had beenoffered for it. He could not rebuild, though generous friends hadproffered him any amount of money. He felt unable to take the stir andstruggle for no end, that he could not explain. Like a wounded animal,he wanted to go off in quiet and seclusion and nurse his hurts. He hadbeen worsted everywhere, let him give up.

  Mrs. Westbury had wisdom enough not to make her claim at all onerous.There would be plenty of time on the long journey. Every day her oldfriends seemed dearer to Laverne. At Oaklands they bewailed theseparation, but recognized its rightfulness, its necessity. To Isolait was a joy that she would see Victor, and she sent no end ofmessages.

  Mrs. Savedra said to Miss Holmes, "If you desire to make a change, weshall be more than glad to have you."

  David Westbury drove his wife and pretty daughter about with a proud,satisfied air. Agnes shopped for her, "just enough to make herpresentable," she said when Laverne protested. But, after all, theparting was very hard.

  "You must not come and see me off, Uncle Jason." She could notrenounce the dear, familiar name. "If you did, I should give one wildleap and land on the wharf, and you would have to keep me. Fouryears--it's a long, long while, and there will be room for a greatmany heartaches in it, but one day they will be healed."

  He obeyed her, and did not come. There were many friends who did. Soshe went sailing out of the Golden Gate on as fair a day as she hadfirst entered it. Oh, how the sun shone and tipped the waves withmolten gold. Never were skies bluer. Even the rocks, and the clefts,and the crannies brought out their indescribable colors, browns thatdeepened through every shade into purple and black, grays that werepink and mauve and dun, blues that ran into sapphire, and green andchrysoprase. Telegraph Hill and the old, time-worn semaphore. Oh,farewell, farewell, dear old San Francisco!

  There was some trouble getting insurance matters straightened up andpaying debts. Jason Chadsey had lost the spring of ambition and life.He would take a voyage up north with some of the explorers, then hewould think of the next thing. Four years. Oh, no, she would neverreturn. The bright, laughing, gay world would swallow her up.

  Marian Holmes pitied the man profoundly through this time. They hadbeen excellent, sensible friends. There had been two or threeoccasions when she would have married him if he had been really inlove with her. She knew now why his love-day had passed. She enjoyedher own life, her own neat ways, her liberty. She and Miss Gaines werestill very warm friends, and the latter would have liked her to comewith her.

  "I have a fancy to try it at Oaklands, and help Americanize thesecharming people, perhaps spoil them. It will be very easy anddelightful. The daughter will be a rather curious study. If she werepoor, she would have a fortune in her voice. She has quite a gift ofpoetry. I shall try to keep her from morbidness and a convent, nowthat she has lost her friend. And her mother wants her fitted formarriage. How these foreigners harp on that!" laughing a little.

  Laverne Westbury cried herself to sleep many a night, though in thedaytime she took a warm interest in all about her, and tried to beagreeable, tried to draw near to her father. He was proud of herprettiness, of her refined ways, the delicacy that had come down toher from the New England strain. It was English, and she would "take"over there. Then he was glad to have Agnes so happy. It was like agirl with her first doll. Often Laverne would rather have been leftalone, but she tried not to be ungracious.

  They crossed the Isthmus, quite a new experience. They went up toWashington, where David Westbury had an excellent scheme to exploitthat did get taken up afterward. Then to Liverpool. The little girlnever dreamed there would come a time when one could cross thecontinent in a week, the ocean in another, and her father'sexpectations seemed quite wild to her.

  There was a visit over to Paris. Eugenie was at the height of herpopularity, but now she had to take a little pains with her beauty.Still she was the mother of a future Emperor, she was a favoritedaughter of the Church, she set the fashions and the manners of theday and did it most admirably.

  It was not possible for a girl to be unhappy or cry herself to sleepamid such charming surroundings. Her French was very useful, she hadbeen so in the habit of using it at home that she did not take it upawkwardly.

  Then they must go to London and get settled. They would have a realhome, an attractive place where they could entertain. Mr. Westburywould be away a good deal on flying trips, and now he would not mindleaving his wife with her pleasant companion. He really grew fond ofLaverne in a proud sort of way. He liked women to have attractions. Hewas not jealous, he had found his wife too useful to spoil it by anypetty captiousness.

  Laverne was really amazed. A simple little home, Mrs. Westbury hadsaid, but it seemed to her quite grand. A pretty court, the housestanding back a little, a plot of flowers and some vines, a spacioushall with rooms on both sides, a large drawing room, smallerdelightf
ul apartments, sleeping and dressing rooms upstairs, a man andseveral maids, and a carriage kept on livery.

  On one side of the hall were an office and a smoking room devoted tothe gentlemen who called on business, and there were many of them, butthey did not disturb the ladies.

  Some old friends came to welcome Mrs. Westbury back, and this was MissWestbury, who had been at school in the "States" while they weretravelling about, and now would remain permanently with them. Mrs.Westbury sent out cards for a Sunday reception and presented herdaughter to the guests. She was something delightfully fresh and new,a pretty, modest girl who might have been reared in any Englishfamily, and who was not handsome enough to shine down the daughters ofother mammas.

  It was her very naturalness that proved her greatest charm. And Mrs.Westbury found she had not made any mistake in desiring her. Young mensought her favor again. Older men lingered for a bit of bright talk.Laverne felt at times as if she were in an enchanted world. How couldyouth remain blind to the delight?

  Then all the wonderful journeys about to famous places, art galleries,concerts, drives in the parks. It seemed as if there was no end to themoney. Since prosperity had dawned upon David Westbury he had made ita rule never to want twice for a thing be it indulgence of anyreasonable sort, once when he had, and once when he had not. His planswere working admirably. A golden stream was pouring in and he was inhis element. A few years of this and he could retire on hiscompetency.

  She wrote to Miss Holmes and heard from her the current news aboutevery one. Olive Personette was well married. Isola had a musicmaster, an enthusiastic German, who insisted such a voice should notbe hidden out of sight and hearing. Her father had been persuaded toallow her to sing in St. Mary's Church, recently completed in a veryfine manner, on Ascension Sunday and there had been great enthusiasmover the unknown singer. Elena was growing up into a bright, eagergirl who rode magnificently and danced to perfection, and was alreadydrawing crowds of admirers, much to her mother's satisfaction, andwould make amends for Isola's diffidence and distaste of society. DickFolsom was still flirting with pretty girls. Nothing had been heardfrom Mr. Chadsey, except that he had gone up to the wild Russianpossessions. There was inclosed a letter from Mrs. Hudson, who was ahappy mother, and Jose was the best of husbands.

  Laverne wondered at times how it was possible to hear anything ofVictor Savedra. Girls were so hedged about here, everything they didinquired into. It would not be proper for her to write, and if she hadan answer Mrs. Westbury would know it. She kept an excellent watchover her pretty daughter. She was really glad no one heard from JasonChadsey. In this round of pleasure Laverne would soon forget thatcrude life, and not care to go back to it.

  She did find many things to interest. But the Westbury society was notof the intellectual type. Then there were no stirring questions aboutone's own town. London seemed a great agglomeration of small places,and was to a degree finished. There was no especial Steamer day, therewas no influx of miners, no great bay with its shipping at hand, and,oh, no great ocean with its multitude of denizens to watch.

  Yet, of course, there were other wonderful things, the galleries, withtheir pictures and statues, only it seemed to her that people wentquite as much to see each other's fine clothes. There were thechurches, the palaces, the great piles of learning that had trainedEnglishmen hundreds of years. Mr. Westbury took them to the House ofCommons to a debate that he was interested in, but she felt a littledisappointed. Somewhere at Oxford was Victor Savedra, but what was oneamid the great multitude?

  They went over on the French coast for a summering and Laverne foundherself quite a favorite at once. She was so modest and unassuming.American tourists had not invaded every corner of Europe. And a youngAmerican who knew French and Spanish people at home, where no onesupposed they could be found, where they looked only for wild Indians,was indeed an unusual personage.

  Mrs. Westbury was proud of her stepdaughter. She was so tractable, itwas so easy to keep her out of the reach of undesirable admirers.Indeed, she thought she should be jealous when Laverne came to havelovers.

  Then back to London again, visiting at country houses where there werehunts and much fine riding, pretty evening balls, queer old women,titled and bejewelled, to whom every one seemed to bow.

  And it was while they were at Thorley that Lord Wrexford came homefrom the Continent, where he had been trying to live cheaply for awhile. He was five and thirty, very well looking and agreeable, andthough he had taken on some flesh he was not too stout for dancing, sohe was invited out considerably, though he was not esteemed a catch inthe matrimonial market. For it was well known that Wrexford Grange wasnearly covered with mortgages. The old lord was helpless fromparalysis, not able to sign his name, and too infirm in mind toconsent lawfully to any measures looking to the disposal of the oldplace. Indeed, his death was looked for almost any time.

  He came with a purpose beside dancing. A friend had said: "See ifWestbury can't do something for you, or put you in a way to helpyourself. He has some companies under way that are simply coiningmoney."

  "Why, I thought he went to America."

  "He did and has been back a year perhaps. Lord Elsden is in onecompany. It has something to do with quicksilver, and there's a goldmine. You used to be quite cronies."

  "Yes, he was a good fellow. He helped me out of one difficulty."

  So he went to Thorley Wold not only to dance, but the day after theball he took David Westbury over to Wrexford Grange and they wentthrough papers and debts, some to the Jews that had been ruinous andwere now pressing.

  "You see," the younger man said, "if I stood alone I should let theplace go. You must know of chances to make money out there in the newcountries. I'd start off to-morrow if I could, and hunt up a goldmine."

  "They are not always to be found," smiling with a touch of shrewdness."And mining isn't just the thing for----"

  "A scion of nobility. What did I read the other day?--some luckyfellow unearthed a nugget worth thousands."

  "Yes--that does happen," nodding rather incredulously. "Well, if youwant me to, I will take these papers to London with me and see what Ican do for you. It's a fine old estate."

  "And nothing to keep it on. Oh, I shall get out of it fast enough whenthe poor old Governor is gone. It's a good thing he's past worryingover it, or knowing it, for that matter."

  So they returned to Thorley in time for dinner, and in the small dancethat evening among the house guests, he took Laverne Westbury outtwice, and heard part of her story.

  Mrs. Westbury did not think particularly of the matter until LordWrexford had been at the house several times and paid her some markedattention, invited her and her daughter to visit Grosvenor Gallery andsee an especially handsome portrait, the work of a friend of his whowas coming rapidly up to fame.

  "The fur on her wrap is so beautifully done that it seems as if youmight blow it about with a breath. And she is an extremely handsomewoman, was one of the court beauties a few years ago."

  Mrs. Westbury was very much pleased with her escort. A title did gosome distance in her favor, though she never made any vulgar snatch atit.

  "What about that Lord Wrexford?" she asked of her husband one of theevenings they happened to be alone.

  He looked up from the stock list he was going over.

  "The man or the estate?" with a short, rather brusque laugh.

  "Well--both." Her smile might have been that of an arch conspirator. Asudden thought occurred to him. There were many business proffers madeto him in these days.

  "He's trying to stave off some business until his father has gone. Hewas willing to cut off the entail, but the question arose as towhether his father was capable, and the lawyers declare he is not.Some parties are to bring suit unless certain claims are met. Theindebtedness is enough to swallow up the whole thing. A fine oldestate, too."

  "It is a pity the title cannot go with it," she remarked longingly,with a meaning look.

  "The young man can," and he laughed. br />
  "I wonder some one hasn't----" and she made a suggestive pause.

  "He might marry the daughter of a rich tradesman, I suppose. He isreally a better class fellow, and would shrink from a lot of vulgarrelations. Most of these Commoners have such large families, and theother class seldom have fortunes for their daughters. The Jews willget the estate in the end, I think, and I am really sorry for him."

  "And he wants some help from you?"

  "To tide over the present, he imagines. But it will be for all time.Now, if you want a handsome estate right in among good old families.You know we heard about it at Thorley. It wouldn't be a badspeculation if one wanted to live there. It's not such a greatdistance from London."

  "If one could buy the title," and she sighed.

  He gave a short laugh and then returned to his list.

  She leaned back in her luxurious chair and dreamed. They really hadsomething wherewith to purchase the title.