The Californians

  XV

  Don Roberto was to bring his guest with him on the train which arrived afew minutes after five. Magdalena was told to dress early and be in theparlour when Mr. Trennahan came downstairs. She was cold at the thoughtof talking alone with a man and a stranger; but Mrs. Yorba hadneuralgia, and announced her intention to lie down until the lastminute.

  Magdalena had received a number of pretty presents from her aunt andfriends, a cablegram from Colonel Belmont and Helena, and from herfather a small gold watch and fob. Her father's gift was verymagnificent to her, and her pleasure was as great in the thought of hisgenerosity as in the beauty of the gift itself. His usual gift was tendollars; and as it had been decided that she was not to be a young ladyuntil she was nineteen, her eighteenth birthday had been passed over.

  Her mother's present was the dress she was to wear to-night, a whiteorgandie of the pearly tint high in favour with blondes of matchlesscomplexion, a white sash, and a white ribbon to be knotted about thethroat. The neck of the gown was cut in a small V.

  Magdalena had no natural taste in dress, nor did she know the firstprinciple of the law of colour; but when she had finished her toiletteshe stood for many moments before the mirror, regarding herself withdisapproval. The radiant whiteness of the frock and of the ribbon abouther neck made her look as dark as an Indian. She saw no beauty in thenoble head with its parted, closely banded hair, in the fine dark eyes.She saw only the wide mouth and indefinite nose, the complexionlessskin, the long thin figure and ugly neck. The only thing about her thatpossessed any claim to beauty, according to her own standards, was herfoot. She thrust it out and strove to find encouragement in itspulchritude. It was thin and small and arched, and altogether perfect.She wore her first pair of slippers and silk stockings,--a present fromher aunt. Her mother thought silk stockings a sinful waste of money.

  Magdalena sighed and turned to the door. "Feet don't talk," she thought."What am I to say to Mr. Trennahan?"

  She walked slowly down the stair. He was before her, standing on theverandah directly in front of the doors. His back was to her. She sawthat he was very tall and thin, not unlike her uncle in build, but witha distinction that gentleman did not possess. Her father was struttingup and down the drive, taking his ante-dinner constitutional.

  She went along the hall as slowly as she could, her hands clenched, hermind in travail for a few words of appropriate greeting. When she hadnearly reached the door, Trennahan turned suddenly and saw her. He cameforward at once, his hand extended.

  "This is Miss Yorba, of course," he said. "How good of you to come downso soon!"

  He had a large warm hand. It closed firmly over Magdalena's, and gaveher confidence. She could hardly see his face in the gloom of the hall,but she felt his cordial grace, his magnetism.

  "I am glad you have come down to my birthday dinner," she said, thankfulto be able to say anything.

  "I am highly honoured, I am sure. Shall we go outside? I hope you preferit out there. I never stay in the house if I can help it."

  "Oh, I much prefer to be out."

  They sat facing each other in two of the wicker chairs. He was a manskilled in woman, and he divined her shyness and apprehension. He talkedlightly for some time, making her feel that politeness compelled her tobe silent and listen. She raised her eyes after a time and looked athim. He was, perhaps, thirty-five, possibly more. He looked older and atthe same time younger. His shaven chin and lips were sternly cut. Hisface was thin, his nose arched and fine, his skin and hair neutral intint. The only colouring about him was in his eyes. They were very blueand deeply set under rather scraggy brows. Magdalena noted that they hada peculiarly penetrating regard, and that they did not smile with thelips. The latter, when not smiling, looked grim and forbidding, andthere was a deep line on either side of the mouth. Her memory turned toColonel Belmont, and the night she had studied his profile. There was anindefinable resemblance between the two men. Then she realised howold-fashioned and worn Belmont was beside this trim elegant man, who,with no exaggeration of manner, treated her with a deference andattention which had no doubt been his habitual manner with the greatestladies in Europe.

  "Shall you be in California long?" she asked suddenly.

  "That is what I am trying to decide. I had heard so much of yourCalifornia that I came out with a half-formed idea of buying a littleplace and settling down for the rest of my days."

  "The Mark Smith place is for sale," she answered quickly. "It has onlytwo acres, but they are cultivated, and the house is very pretty."

  "Your father told me about it; but although Menlo is very beautiful, itseems to have one drawback. I am very fond of rowing, sailing, andfishing, and there is no water."

  "There is if you go far enough. The bay is not so very far away, and Ihave heard that there is salmon-fishing back in the mountains. And Mr.Washington and Uncle Jack Belmont often go duck and snipe shooting downon the marsh." She stopped with a shortening of the breath. She had notmade such a long speech since Helena left.

  He sat forward eagerly. "You interest me deeply," he said. "I am verymuch inclined to buy the place. I shall certainly think of it."

  "But you--surely--you would rather be--live--in Europe. We are veryold-fashioned out here."

  The expression about his mouth deepened. "I should like to think that Imight spend the rest of my days with a fishing-rod or a gun."

  "But you have been at courts!"

  He laughed. "I have, and I hope I may never see another."

  "And--and you are young."

  Her interest and curiosity overcame her reserve. She wanted to know allof this man that he would tell her. She had once seen a picture of adeath-mask. His face reminded her of it. _What_ lay behind?

  "I am forty and some months."

  She rose suddenly, her hand seeking her heart. "They are coming," shefaltered. "I hear wheels. And mamma is not here to introduce you."

  "Well," he said, smiling down on her. "Cannot you introduce me?"

  "I--I cannot. I have never introduced anyone. I must seem very ignorantand _gauche_ to you."

  "You are delightful. And I am sure you are quite equal to anything. Am Ito be introduced out here, or in the drawing-room after they have comedownstairs?"

  "Oh, I am not sure."

  "Then perhaps you will let me advise you. When they are all here, I willappear in the drawing-room; and if your mother is not down by that time,we will help each other out. They will all be talking and will hardlynotice me. But I must run."

  The Geary phaeton drove up. It held Rose and her brother. After they hadgone upstairs Magdalena went into the parlour to wait for them. Thelarge room was very dim--the gasoline was misbehaving--and silent; sheshivered with apprehension. There was no sign of her mother. ButTrennahan's words and sympathy had given her courage, and she burnedwith ambition to acquit herself creditably in his eyes.

  The guests arrived rapidly. In ten minutes they were all in the parlour,sixteen in number, the men in full dress, the women in organdies orfoulards showing little of arm and neck. Mrs. Washington was in pink;Tiny in white and a seraphic expression; Rose wore black net and redslippers, a bunch of red geraniums at her belt, her eyes slanting at themen about her. With the exception of Ned Geary and Charley Rollins, afriend of Helena's, with both of whom she had perhaps exchanged threesentences in the course of her life, Magdalena knew none of the youngmen: they had been brought, at Mrs. Yorba's suggestion, by the otherguests.

  She could find nothing to say to them; she was watching the door. Wouldher mother never come? Her father was on the front verandah talking toMr. Washington and her uncle.

  Trennahan entered the room.

  Magdalena drew herself up and went forward. She looked very dignifiedand very Spanish. No one guessed, with the exception of Trennahan, thatit was the ordeal of her life.

  "Mr. Trennahan," she said in a harsh even voice: "Mrs. Washington, MissBrannan, Miss Montgomery."

  He flashed her a glance of admiration which sent the c
hill from herveins, and began talking at once to the three women that she might feelexcused from further duty. A few moments later Mrs. Yorba entered. Shereceived Trennahan without a smile or a superfluous word. Mrs. Yorba wasnever deliberately rude; but were she the wife of an ambassador forforty years, her chill nipped New England nature would never evenartificially expand; the cast-iron traditions of her youth, when neithershe nor any of her acquaintance knew aught of socialities beyond churchfestivals, could never be torn from the sterile but tenacious soil whichhad received them.

  Dinner was announced almost immediately. Mrs. Yorba signified toTrennahan that he was to have the honour of taking her in; and as shehad not intimated how the rest were to be coupled, the women arrangedthe matter to suit themselves. Mrs. Cartright went in with Don Roberto,Mrs. Washington with Polk; there were no other married women present. AsCharley Rollins was standing by Magdalena, she took the arm he offeredher.

  The function was not as melancholy as the Yorba dinners were wont to be.Young people in or approaching their first season are not easilyaffected by atmosphere; and those present to-night, with the exceptionof Magdalena and Tiny Montgomery, chattered incessantly. Tiny had afaculty for making her temporary partner do the talking while sheenjoyed her dinner; but she listened sweetly and her superlatives werehappily chosen.

  Mrs. Cartright always talked incessantly whether anyone listened or not.Mrs. Washington, who sat on Don Roberto's left, amused him with theaudacity of her slang. Where she learned the greater number of herdiscords was an abiding mystery; the rest of Menlo Park relegated slangto the unknown millions who said "mommer" and "popper," got divorces,and used cosmetics. When remonstrated with, she airily responded thather tongue was "made that way," and rattled off her latest acquisition.As she was an especial pet of Mrs. Yorba's--if that august dame could besaid to pet anyone--and of distinguished Southern connections, theremonstrances were not serious.

  Magdalena, although she ordered her brain to action, could think ofnothing to say to Rollins; but he was a budding lawyer and asked no moreof providence than a listener. He talked volubly about Helena's childishpranks, the last Bohemian Club Midsummer Jinks, the epigrams of hisrivals at the bar. He appeared very raw and uninteresting to Magdalena,and she found herself trying to overhear the remarks of Trennahan, whowas doing his laborious duty by his hostess. After a time Trennahanallowed his attention to be diverted by Ila, who sat on his right. Thathe was grateful for the change there could be no doubt. His expressionup to this point had been one of grim amusement, which at any momentmight become careworn. The lines of his face relaxed under Ila's curvedsmiles and slanting glances. They laughed gaily, but pitched theirvoices very low.

  Magdalena wondered if all dinners were as wearisome as this. Rollinsfinally followed Trennahan's example and devoted himself to Caro Folsom,a yellow-haired girl with babyish green eyes, a lisp, and an astutebrain. On Magdalena's left was a blond and babbling youth named Ellis,who made no secret of the fact that he was afraid of his intellectualneighbour; he stammered and blushed every time she spoke to him. He hadgone in with Rose Geary, a blonde fairy-like little creature, as lightof foot as of wit, and an accomplished flirt; who regarded men with theeye of the philosopher. They occupied each other admirably.

  Opposite, another young lawyer, Eugene Fort, was saying preternaturallybright things to Tiny, who lifted her sweet orbs at intervals andremarked: "How _dreadfully_ clever you are, Mr. Fort; I am _so_ afraidof you!" or "How _sweet_ of you to think I am worth all those _real_epigrams! You ought to keep them for a great law-book." Once she stifleda yawn, but Mr. Fort did not see it.

  Little notice was taken of Magdalena, and she felt superfluous andmiserable. Even Trennahan, who had seemed so sympathetic, had barelyglanced at her. She wondered, with a little inner laugh, if she weregrowing conceited. Why should he, with one of the prettiest girls inCalifornia beside him? Ila was very young, but she belonged by instinctto his own world.

  The dinner came to an end. The older men went to the billiard-room, theyounger men followed the girls to the parlour. Trennahan talked to Tinyfor a time, then again to Ila, who lay back in a chair with her littlered slippers on a footstool. She had carefully disposed herself in analcove beyond the range of Mrs. Yorba's vision.

  Tiny, whose train added to the remarkable dignity of her diminutiveperson, crossed the room to Magdalena, who was sitting alone on thewindow-seat.

  "You have done so _well_, 'Lena dear," she said, as she sat down besideher discouraged hostess. "I feel I must tell you that _immediately_. Youare not a _bit_ shy and nervous, as I should be if I were giving myfirst dinner."

  Magdalena smiled gratefully. Tiny had always been the kindest of thegirls. "I am glad you think I am not so bad," she said. "But I fear thatI have bored everybody."

  "_Indeed_, you have not. You are so calm and full of natural repose. Therest of us seem _dreadfully_ American by contrast."

  "You are never fussy."

  "I know, but it is _quite_ different. I've been very carefully broughtup. You would be exactly as you are if you had brought yourself up. TheSpanish are the most dignified--What are they going to do, I wonder?"

  Mr. Fort approached. "We are going to walk about the grounds and step onthe frogs," he said. "I don't know a line of poetry, but I can countstars, and I'll tell you of my aspirations in life. Will you come?"

  "I _so_ want to hear your aspirations, Mr. Fort," said Tiny. "I did notknow that California men had aspirations."

  The girls went with him to the verandah, and all started down thedriveway together, then paired. To her surprise, Magdalena foundTrennahan beside her.

  "I am so glad to be with you again," he said petulantly. "I am tired oftypes."

  "Types?"

  "Yes; women that a man has been used to for many long weary years,--toput it in another way."

  "But surely you find Ila very fascinating?"

  "Oh, yes; but one understands the fascination so well; and it gives somuch pleasure to--twenty-two, that it is almost immoral for an old fogylike myself to monopolise it. I don't understand you in the least, so Iam here."

  Magdalena trembled a little. The nineteen years of her life suddenlyassumed a glad complexion, lifting her spirit to the level of her mates.She tried to recall the sad and bitter experiences of her brief past,but they scampered down into the roots of memory.

  He did not speak again for a time, beyond asking if he might smoke. Hewas quite sincere for the moment; but he understood the much of her thatwas salient to his trained eye. Her parents, her timid reserve, sounlike that of other American girls favoured by fortune, her ignoranceof certain conventionalities, the very fashion of her hair, the veryincompatibility of her costume and colouring, told him two thirds of hershort history. Of the history of her inner life he guessed little, butbelieved that she had both depth of mind and intensity of feeling. Toget her confidence would be next to impossible; it was therefore wellworth the effort. If she proved as interesting as he suspected, hebelieved that he should feel disposed to marry her did she only have acomplexion. He was weary straight down into the depths of his weary soulof the women and the girls of the world; but he also abhorred a sallowskin. He had worshipped beauty in his day, and was by no meansimpervious to it yet; but he felt that he could overlook Magdalena'snose and mouth and elementary figure for the sake of her eyes andoriginality, did she only possess the primary essential of beauty. A manregards a woman's lack of complexion as a personal grievance.

  If the American habit of monologue had been a part of Trennahan'sinheritance, his foreign training had long since lifted it up by theroots; but he saw that if he was to make progress with this silent girl,he must do the talking. He could be both brilliant and amusing when hechose, and he exerted himself as he had not done for some time. He wasrewarded by a rapt attention, a humble and profound admiration thatwould have flattered a demi-god. And in truth he was a demi-god to thisgirl, with her experience of elderly old-fashioned men and an occasionalcallow youth encountered on a ver
andah in summer.

  They followed the driveway that curved between one of the two largerlawns and the deer park. The lawn was set thickly along its edge andsparsely on its sweep with fragrant trees and shrubs. Beyond the deerpark was the black mass of the woods. The air was sweet with the mingledbreath of June roses, orange blossoms, and the pepper-tree. After a timetheir way lay through a dark avenue of immense oaks, and the perfumescame from the Mariposa lilies in the fields beyond.

  If Trennahan had been with Ila, he would have conducted himself as hissurroundings and his companion demanded: he would have made love. But hewas a man who rarely made a mistake; he talked to Magdalena of thedifference between California and the many other countries he hadvisited, and answered her eager questions about life in the greatcapitals. As they were returning, he said to her,--

  "You say you ride before breakfast. Do you think I might join youto-morrow? Your father has been kind enough to place his stable at mydisposal."

  "Oh--I--I don't know. My father is very--Spanish, although he doesn'tlike you to call it that."

  "May I ask him?"

  "Oh, yes, you could ask him."

  When they reached the house he sought his host in the billiard-room. Thegame was over, and Don Roberto, Mr. Polk, and Mr. Washington were seatedin front of the mantel-piece with their feet on the shelf. It was DonRoberto's favourite attitude; he felt that it completed the structure ofhis Americanism. He could only reach the tip of the shelf with thepoints of his little elegant feet, but he was just as comfortable as Mr.Polk, whose feet, large and booted, were planted against the wall. Mr.Washington, who was a most correct gentleman, with the illustriousforbears his name suggested, had never lifted his feet to one of his ownmantels in his life; but Don Roberto's guests always humoured thislittle hobby, among many others.

  "Ay, the Mr. Trennahan," said Don Roberto, graciously. "We make room foryou."

  The others moved along, and Trennahan, seeing what was expected of him,brought a chair and elevated his feet among the Chinese bric-a-brac. Heaccepted a choice cigar--there were certain luxuries in which DonRoberto never economised--and added his quota to the anecdotes of thehearthstone. As his were fresh and the others as worn as an oldwedding-ring, it was not long before he had an audience which wouldbrook no interruption but applause.

  A Chinaman brought a peremptory message from Mrs. Washington, and thefeet on the mantel were reduced to six. When these came down, two hourslater, Trennahan said to Don Roberto,--

  "May I ride with Miss Yorba to-morrow before breakfast?"

  "Yes; I no mind," said the don, beaming with approval of his new friend."But the boy, he go too. My daughter, no must ride alone with thegentleman. And you no leave the grounds, remember."