Ancestors: A Novel

  XXII

  At four o'clock Isabel was awakened by suspicious sounds at the key-holeof the front door. She reached out for her pistol, but withdrew her handas she heard the careless laugh of her brother-in-law. A few momentslater the two explorers, after an instant's hesitation at the head ofthe stair--which they had climbed like cats--walked past her door with abrisk swaggering preternaturally steady gait that invoked the memory offormer occupants of the mansion. Then Gwynne's door opened and shut asif by sleight of hand. Stone's was at the end of the hall. Isabelinferred that he went through it, and a sound between a hiss and asmothered roar shot down the hall as he would seem to pick up the doorand bang it into place.

  Mr. Hofer had mentioned his luncheon hour as half-past one. Isabel hadGwynne called an hour before. She was sitting on the veranda, as heemerged. He was as well groomed as usual, but he was unmistakably palebeneath his new coat of tan. She laughed wickedly.

  "Oh yes," he said, imperturbably, "I was drunk. If I had not been Inever could have got through it, not being a seasoned San Franciscan. Ithought I knew vice. I have seen a good many variations, and in placeswhere protection was necessary. But I had not guessed at thecombination of ancient civilization and the crudities of the mining-campin the heart of a modern city. Stone is not a tank, but a camel. Ibefuddled myself successfully in those dives under the pavements--and wehad by no means begun there: I should say we had patronized at leasthalf the saloons in San Francisco before we started for the underworld.As we finally supported each other up the hill--we hadn't the price of acab left between us--it seemed to me that I was ascending from a jungleof antediluvian men and women and beasts for ever and ever on therampage. San Francisco is the most wonderful city in the world inasmuchas she not only exists but thrives on the top of such outrageousrottenness. And no wonder that the men like Hofer are desperate. We wereescorted by a policeman after all, and he seemed to enjoy himself. Theflash of knives--I saw two men stuck--made as little impression upon himas the awful abandonment of--well, of the females. Good God!--Well, Ihope another variety is in store to-day. Hofer, at least, does notappear to be dissipated."

  "Oh no, it is the fashion in that set to be domestic and good citizens.All you'll hear of the underworld to-day will be its relation topolitics. They have been making a desperate fight to defeat the presentmayor's reelection and have been overwhelmingly defeated. The mayor ispopularly supposed to be a criminal at large, and the party thatsupports him call themselves socialists, and are labor unions moregreedy and tyrannical than any Trust in the country. Nice town. But weare optimists. No doubt Mr. Hofer and his party are already planning forthe next campaign. If I were a man, I'd go back to the tactics of theFifties and lynch. The city had good government for twenty years afterthe operations of that Vigilance Committee. You might suggest it."

  "I cannot say that I am in a suggesting mood. Shall you be here todinner?"

  "Probably. But you are to accept whatever offers. No doubt Mr. Hoferwill motor you out to the Country Club or down to Burlingame, where hehas a house."

  Gwynne nodded gratefully and left her. As he reached the top of thesteps leading down the hill, Isabel saw him pause and speak to a verytall very smart young woman, whom she recognized in a moment as Mrs.Hofer. Then the young matron advanced along the board walk with a sortof trembling stride. It was evident from her charming blushing face thatshe was as embarrassed as any one so young and buoyant, so successfuland so Irish, could be. Isabel ran down the steps to meet her.

  "Oh!" cried Mrs. Hofer, in a light, high, cultivated, but nasal voice,with a slightly English accent. "You _are_ sweet! I had intended to callin state the first time I could think of a decent excuse, for I havesimply been mad--_mad_--to know you. But last night I told Mr. Hoferthat my slender stock of patience had gone--flown--evaporated. I couldhardly wait till this afternoon! Do you think I'm unconventional? I'mnot really, except when I'm abroad--never here. Nobody is soconventional as the San Franciscan at home."

  Isabel was smiling and trying to guide her up the steps. "I am more gladthan I can say to know you, at last," she said. "Do come into my house."

  "Let me rest a bit. The breath is out of me with the climb and thefright. Yes, fright, and it takes a good deal to phaze me. But you'rethe sensation of the town, my dear. There have been all sorts of plansto get hold of you. People are simply mad--_mad_! I was just bound I'dbe the first. Not petty social ambition, not a bit of it. I wanted toknow you. And I stayed in a country-house in England just after you,last year. To think that you could have married Lord Hexam. Oh, what ajewel of a house! I went simply mad over those white rooms in London."

  Isabel had firmly piloted her up the steps and into the house, and Mrs.Hofer sat on the edge of a chair like a bird on a bough, her merryshrewd sweet eyes devouring Isabel's face.

  "Oh, but I've wanted to know you! You don't know what this means to me!"

  "But why?" asked Isabel, much amused. "I am nobody."

  "Oh, just aren't you, though? Why, you're almost the last of the old SanFrancisco Knickerbockers, so to speak. That is, the last that hasinherited any of the beauty one is always hearing about from the oldbeaux. And most of them have gone under anyhow--in the cheerfulCalifornia fashion: three generations from shirt sleeves to shirtsleeves. Of course there are some left, but the most interesting thingabout them is that they have been forced to open their houses to thelikes of us--or sit down and talk to empty chairs. But the old Spanishblood is what interests us most. It was quite forgotten--all that oldlife--for about two generations; but now it's the fashion to rememberit, and everything else early Californian. To think that you are aniece, so to speak, of the first nun in California, who had thatromantic love affair with that Russian--I never could pronounce hisname. That's not what interests _me_ most, though. It's _you_. To thinkwhat you've done! Those chickens! My man in the market has orders tosend me Old Inn chickens and eggs, on penalty of losing my custom. Allthe _blasee_ girls--the San Francisco girls _do_ get so _blasee_, poorthings--are threatening to go in for chickens. It would be a lot betterfor them than bridge. It is quite shocking the way they do gamble. Talkabout early times!"

  "Fancy chickens becoming a fad!" Mrs. Hofer had paused for breath. "Poorchickens! Tell your friends that they will have to get up at all hoursof the night, and at six o'clock in winter, and five in summer, andspend a large part of their time in overalls and rubber boots. I fancythat will cure them."

  "It would! No more flirtations! No more Paris gowns! No more paint! I'lltell them. But they admire you, all the same. And we are all dying tosee you _en grande tenue_. I am giving a ball the night beforeChristmas. Say you will come--right here, on the spot."

  "I shall love to come. I had intended to reopen this house as soon as Icould afford it, and had hardly expected to pick up my mother's oldthreads until then. But a ball! I haven't danced for a year."

  "It is simply fine to hear you say things just like other girls, whenyou look the concentrated essence of all our bewigged and bepowderedancestors. To think that you've got that old colonial blood in you too,and are related to a lot of those old duffers one sees in the publicparks. The next time I go East I'll look at them with more interest."

  Then she sat still farther forward, and her bright face took on anexpression of coaxing eagerness.

  "If it hadn't been a man's luncheon to-day I should have asked you tojoin us. But won't you come down to The St. Francis with me? Myautomobile is at the foot of the bluff. We can motor afterward throughthe park a bit, and out on the boulevard. It is a simply heavenly day."

  Isabel hesitated, and lifted an ear to the floor above. There was not asound, nor was it likely that Lyster would make his appearance beforedinner. Paula had announced her intention of visiting her children inthe course of the afternoon; she would hardly awaken for luncheon. Whileshe hesitated Mrs. Hofer began to coax in her eager commanding fashion.

  "Oh, do come! Please come! I'm mad, _mad_ to have you all to myself forone day. Chloroform them--"


  "You wouldn't lunch with me?"

  "I _will_ entertain you first. Please, please, come!"

  "Very well," said Isabel, laughing. "I doubt if they ever know thedifference. I won't be a minute getting ready."

  She ran up-stairs, and during the half-hour of her toilette Mrs. Hoferexamined everything in the down-stairs rooms and nodded an emphaticapproval.