The four Corners in California

by Amy Ella Blanchard

MAKING UP

There was no time to make friends with Charlotte the next day, for Mary Lee and Jack returned home and there was so much for the sisters to talk about that they did not care to go afield for entertainment.

Jean was the first to spy her twin. "There they come," she sang out.

"Who?" said Nan.

"My trin, my dear trin, and Mary Lee," and Jean started on a run down the walk to meet them as soon as they should come in the gate.

Nan was not far behind her. "Hallo!" she called. "I am glad you are back again. We've missed you terribly." She hugged Jack up to her and bestowed a hearty kiss upon Mary Lee. "Did you have a good time?" she asked.

"Fine," replied Mary Lee. "Where's mother?"

"She and the señorita have gone to ride with Carter."

"Where's Aunt Helen?"

"Over at Mrs. Bobs'. Mr. Pinckney has gone to Mexico and Mrs. Bobs asked Aunt Helen to come over and keep her company this afternoon because she was so lonely."

"There's a girl visiting there," put in Jean. "Nan and she have been awfully thick, but she hasn't been over to-day."

Nan made a little contemptuous mouth. "I'm mad with her," she told Mary Lee. "She's such a prudy, prudy prude and always is saying: 'Do you think we ought to do this and do you think we ought to do that;' I get so tired of so much oughting."

"I thought you liked her so much, Nan," said Jean in surprise.

"Oh, I did; I do, I suppose, but——Oh, well, don't let's talk about her. Tell us what you did at the Sanders', Mary Lee."

"Oh, we did everything; rode and walked and ate raisins and honey and all sorts of good things, and oh, Nan, Jo Poker was there."

"Jo Poker? Well, did you ever! Do tell me about him."

"We saw him every day, and he used to take me to the woods and tell me about all the queer things we saw. I like him so much. We used to have long talks and I told him all about the señorita, but he didn't seem to know anything or if he did he wouldn't tell me. I certainly had a fine time, Nan, but I am glad to get home again. I do hope mother and Miss Dolores won't stay out long; I am just aching to see them."

Just then Miss Helen came in. "Why," she said, "my girlies are back again. We certainly did miss you, and it is good to have you again. Nan, before I forget it, Mrs. Roberts wants you to come over and take supper. Charlotte is going to-morrow or next day."

"Oh, dear, and the girls have just come," returned Nan discontentedly.

"I never expected to see the time when you wouldn't jump at an invitation from Mrs. Roberts," said Miss Helen.

"But then there was never a time before when Mary Lee and Jack had been away for a whole week," said Nan by way of excuse.

"That is true," said Miss Helen smiling. "Well, you must manage it for yourself."

"I won't go till nearly supper time," Nan concluded, "and I will come back as soon after as it is decent. To tell you the truth," she whispered to Mary Lee as they went out of the room with their arms around each other, "Charlotte and I had a little spat. Mrs. Bobs doesn't know anything about it unless Charlotte has told her, and it will make it sort of awkward, you see."

"What was it about?" asked Mary Lee. Nan told her.

"Well," decided the impartial Mary Lee, "I think it was as much your fault as hers. In the first place you had no right to ask her to run your errands."

"She didn't run any."

"Well, you asked her to, and in the second place you invited her to go to the Fairy Dell with you, and you ought to have seen to it that she got home all right. She is a stranger here and she was your company."

"She is not so very much more of a stranger than we are, and Jean had to be looked after."

"Suppose she did; it wouldn't have hurt you to have walked home with her and let Li Hung go home with Jean. He would have taken the best of care of her, you know."

Nan sighed. "Oh, I suppose I was thinking of my side of the question and not hers at all, but it made me mad when she was so deathly afraid of doing anything unusual or of being seen with any one who did."

"You see," said Mary Lee bringing forward a most forceful argument, "you wouldn't like her to think we Virginians could be rude. We would hate her to go back to Boston and say we hadn't been properly polite."

That decided Nan. "I suppose I'd better go and make up. I reckon some of it was my fault. She is really a very nice girl, but her ways aren't ours and she doesn't take to being free and easy. She thinks so much of what people will say and she is always talking about whether we are doing our 'dooty.' I have no doubt she thinks it was my 'dooty' to stick with her when I brought her out with me, and I reckon it really was. I know perfectly well she wouldn't have done me that mean way, and I reckon that is half the reason why I am mad. I wish you would go over with me, Mary Lee; it would take off the edge."

"Oh, but I am not asked."

"You would be if Mrs. Bobs knew you had come back. I'll 'phone over and tell her," and before Mary Lee could say a word Nan had flown to the telephone. She came back in a few minutes. "Mrs. Bobs is delighted," she reported. "She wants you to meet Charlotte. I know Charlotte will like you for you are just the proper kind to suit her. I am such a fly-away, I am afraid, and she doesn't understand me, when I talk up in the clouds, any more than you do." She hurried herself into a proper frock and rebraided her hair with hasty fingers. "Button my middle button, please, Mary Lee," she said. "Oh, but it is good to have you back. I don't like half of four Corners; it makes us seem on the bias. There, I am ready. Come along."

They started forth, taking the back way, which was nearer, passing the tall geranium which grew to the kitchen roof, the orange trees and the grape-vine trellis, and were soon out on the street. "I shall miss it all," remarked Nan. "We shall be going pretty soon, Mary Lee. Aren't you sorry?"

"For some reasons I am, but for others I am not. I like to see new things and new places."

"So do I, but I get attached to the old ones. I think there is something very catty about me, for I cling to my old haunts."

"You are more kittenish, I should say," returned Mary Lee slyly.

Nan laughed, and did not resent the charge.

Charlotte met them rather stiffly but thawed out under Nan's graciousness, and her frank avowal that she had been in the wrong the day before. It is quite true that Charlotte would not have acted as Nan did, but it is equally true that she would never have been willing to apologize so readily for any misdeed of her own.

"I want you and Mary Lee to know each other," Nan told her. "You are just of a piece, you two. I am going to speak to Mrs. Bobs and leave you to get acquainted." Charlotte looked after her as she danced off. She would have given anything to possess such an easy manner, to have been so unconsciously gracious and affable as Nan. She began her conversation in a little studied way which contrasted strangely with Nan's ready flow of speech, and as Mary Lee was herself dignified, they had not progressed very far when they were summoned to supper. It was then that Nan's high spirits again saved the situation, for having once passed the Rubicon, she gave herself no further concern about her former attitude toward Charlotte, but was so funny when she described the procession home from the Fairy Dell that Charlotte laughed in spite of herself, and all at once her own behavior on that occasion seemed silly and unnecessarily stiff. Mary Lee she might like and would probably always easily get along with, but to Nan she would continue to give a warmer affection from the very fact that she was the opposite of herself.

Mr. Roberts insisted upon seeing the girls home, although Carter appeared on the scene, saying he had been sent as an escort. Mr. Roberts was rather a quiet, grave man, but Nan never failed to unloosen his tongue and his face always brightened when she came around.

"I don't like to say good-bye," said Nan to Charlotte, "and I don't mean to to-night, for I'll come around first thing in the morning so as to see you off. I will send you some picture postal cards, Charlotte, and you must do the same to me. I have enjoyed our music so much, and some day I hope I will play as well as you do. We have had a real good time together, even if we have had some squabbles. I was generally wrong and you were right," which admission Charlotte felt was truly noble.

"If you ever come to Boston," she said with more warmth than usual, "you must be sure to let me know."

"Indeed I will. Very likely I shall come some day. I mean to get in a lot of traveling during my life, and you may expect to see me most anywhere you go. Wouldn't it be fine if we were to meet in Germany some day? Perhaps both of us will go there to study music."

"That would be delightful," returned Charlotte.

"Well, who knows?" continued Nan. "Let's pretend we shall. Auf wiedersehn, Miss Loring, I shall expect to see you one of these days at Herr Pumpernickel's studio in Berlin," and, kissing her hand, Nan ran down the step to join Mr. Roberts, who was waiting for her. Carter and Mary Lee had gone on ahead.

Charlotte turned to Mrs. Roberts and made the confession: "I would give anything to be as delightfully easy as Nan is. She is never embarrassed and always knows just what to say. She is the brightest girl I ever saw. I don't mean that she is so very, very intellectual, for there are a great many things she has not read, things that most of my girl friends know all about, but she is so originally bright. She never says things for effect or as if she were conscious of herself."

"That is just Nan's charm," returned Mrs. Roberts. "She is naturally very quick-witted, and she has a ready vocabulary; when she can't think of a word to suit the occasion she coins one that is somehow better than those made to order. Jack is something like her; she is an original, too, but in quite a different way. I wish you were going to stay long enough to see Jack; she is such a comical youngster. My father makes her his special pet. They are a delightful family, take them one and all, from Mrs. Corner down to the twins. I am sorry they are going to leave us so soon. I wish we could persuade them to settle in California."

Carter lingered after Mr. Roberts left his charges safe in their mother's hands. Mary Lee sought the señorita and begged for a Spanish song, so while she softly sang to the accompaniment of her guitar, Mary Lee sat close beside her, in a dusky corner of the veranda, holding closely a fold of her gown. The electric lights from the street made a delicate design of the leafy vines; the mingled scent of roses, orange-blossoms and heliotrope was wafted to them. Jack, tired out, fell asleep with her head on Nan's shoulder. Jean sat in her mother's lap drowsily listening to the soft twanging of the guitar. It suited well the balmy, semi-tropical night. As Miss Dolores finished her song Carter turned to Miss Helen.

"I'm not going to stay, so there. Whether or not you want me to go along, I'm going. I reckon if Mrs. Corner can stand a change I can."

"Who said nobody wanted you?" asked Miss Helen.

"You've never said you did," returned Carter in an aggrieved tone.

"We were afraid you might think we wanted to make use of you and your automobile," said Miss Helen, laughing. "You have been so generous and have been a perfect slave to this family; you ought to have a rest after we have gone."

"I don't want a rest."

"We'd love to have you go," said Miss Helen. "I'll confess to you that, independent as I seem, capable as I may be to conduct the entire party from Dan to Beersheba, in my inmost heart I secretly delight in your manly presence when trunks are to be checked, tickets are to be bought and a stentorian voice is needed to protest at imposition or delay. So you see how I am baring my secrets to you and you may imagine how I shall be delighted to have you at hand whenever I want you. Do go with us, dear Carter."

"Now that's something like," he replied. "Now I feel better. I'll go, oh, yes, I surely will. How would it do to arrange this way? It's nothing of a run from here to Santa Barbara. I can get my friend Oliver's car, which is a little larger than mine, and take five of you; then I can come back here, get my car and take the other two. Then we can see the country as we like without the discomfort of railway travel."

"But it will give you a double trip."

"I don't mind that in the least. I go somewhere nearly every day, and why not there? What do you think of my plan, Mrs. Corner?"

"It is a lovely one and quite worthy of you," was the reply. "You are always thinking of something to save us trouble or to give us pleasure, Carter. Isn't it a lovely plan, children?"

"What's the lovely plan?" said Jean raising her sleepy head.

"Oh, Jean, you were asleep," said Jack. "I heard."

"I don't believe it," retorted Jean. "I wasn't asleep at all; I was only thinking. What did they say? Tell me and I'll believe you heard."

"Carter said he was going to take us somewhere every day," returned Jack triumphantly.

A shout of laughter went up at this. "It is high time my babies were in bed," said Mrs. Corner. "Run along now, and I will come directly."

"But just tell us first what is the plan," said Jack. "Wasn't it what I said?"

"Carter is going to take us all to Santa Barbara in his automobile," whispered Nan. "He'll take us in two goes. How shall we divide up, mother?"

The twins tarried to hear this settled. "I'd better go on ahead and engage rooms," said Miss Helen. "I think, Mary, we'd better leave you and Jack till the last, then you can see to the closing of the house here. How will that suit?"

"All right," agreed Carter.

"I want to go with the first batch," complained Jack.

"But you will be going in my car and it's much the nicer," Carter told her.

"Don't you want to stay and take care of mumsey?" asked Mrs. Corner.

That settled it. If she were to be left behind as a guardian for her mother there was nothing more to be said, and, in the proud consciousness of being selected from the four for this superior office, Jack went to bed perfectly satisfied.

True to her word Nan ran around early the next morning to say good-bye to Charlotte and the two parted most affectionately. Nan returned home to find that the preparations for their own departure had already begun, and she busied herself in packing up the treasure she had collected during her stay in Los Angeles.

Li Hung's childlike smile had fled. He made every excuse from this time out to follow Jack around and to make her frequent offerings of Chinese nuts, queer, bright yellow cakes, strange confections and little boxes of paper flowers which blossomed out when put in water. Clarence hung about the front gate half the time. In a common sorrow he and Li Hung were no longer enemies. "I believe I'll run away," announced Clarence to Jack. "I think I'll go first to San Francisco and then to Virginia."

"You no want velly nice Chinaman go long Santa Babala?" Li Hung asked Mrs. Corner.

It was with some difficulty that she explained to him that they would not need the services of any "velly nice Chinaman," since they would not be keeping house, but she added, as a balm to his feelings: "If we were to keep house, Li Hung, we should certainly want you, and if we ever come back here we shall try to find you."

Li Hung nodded in his mandarin-like way, but he seemed disappointed and did many strange things which he evidently thought would delay their going. Various articles of clothing would be found hidden in out-of-the-way places, books would mysteriously disappear one day to be replaced the next when others would be gone, until finally these crafty performances were discovered to mean no ill will but quite the contrary.

From the tall geranium over the kitchen Nan picked a leaf of remembrance; from the scattered rose-leaves she made a little cushion; orange-blossoms and heliotrope were pressed in her diary. "I'll keep them always," she said, "for I want to take something real away with me, something more than memories."

The twins parted weepingly from the paisano which was bestowed upon Clarence with solemn charges to treat him kindly. "If you don't," said Jack, "I'll tell Li Hung. I'll write to him and then you see what will happen." From this it may be registered that the paisano's future was assured, so far as Clarence was concerned. This youngster put on a very don't care expression as he said good-bye, but his eyes were suspiciously red when he reached home, and that same afternoon he had a desperate fight with the next-door boy because he said girls were no good. With such a cause as that for which he fought Clarence easily came off victor.

The señorita had promised to stay with the family as long as they should remain in California; what she would next do was to be decided later. Mr. Pinckney was expected any day to return from his trip to Mexico when Mary Lee and Nan expected great things. Mary Lee had told Nan of her conference with Jo Poker, but they could come to no conclusion about him nor about his possible relationship to their señorita, and in the excitement of their preparations to leave this subject was dropped. It was only the day before they were to leave their pretty winter home that Mr. Pinckney did come back, and in the fluster of packing and of making adieux there was little chance to do more than ask him: "Did you find out anything about the señorita's father?"

Mr. Pinckney shook his head. "Nothing positive," he returned. "I did see Señor Garcia, but he was mum as an oyster and would give me no satisfaction. An oath to the dead was sacred, he said, and he had promised his wife never to divulge the secret. I discovered her mother's grave but the headstone set forth in Spanish merely that she was the daughter of Antonio and Dolores Mendez. There was a pious inscription, the year of her birth and death, and that was all. No mention of her having been the wife of any one."

Mary Lee sighed. "Well, that is all we can do, I suppose. It looks kind of hopeless, doesn't it? I believe Jo Poker knows something that he won't tell," she added.

"Then I'll try to hunt up Jo Poker when I get a chance," Mr. Pinckney promised.

"He's like a wullerwusp, as Unc' Landy calls them," said Mary Lee, "but maybe you will run across him some time. You won't forget, Mr. St. Nick."

"Not a bit of it."

"And you'll not forget that you're to be in 'Frisco while we are there."

"I'm not likely to. I feel as if the bottom had dropped out of Los Angeles now you youngsters are going."

There were actual tears in Mrs. Roberts's eyes as she bade them good-bye and Mr. Roberts said over and over: "We must get you back here somehow." Mr. Pinckney kept repeating: "Well, I'll see you in 'Frisco, and Virginia isn't a thousand miles from New York. When we all get back we'll see each other often." And so they parted.

"We've had such a good time here," said Nan to her aunt as they started on their journey. "I've never had such a good time in all my life. I wonder if it will have to stop when I leave California."

"I hope not," returned Miss Helen. "You certainly are too young to have your good times stop yet awhile. I prophesy many more; when you go to Europe, for instance."

"Oh, yes, of course; that is at the very tip-top of good times. Shall I really love Italy as much as I do California?"

"I think so because of the precious pictures, the dear old buildings, the savor of romance which you will find there. Every stone seems to have a history, and the very bells peal out some bygone story. One misses that here. There is so much that is startlingly new; it is the oldness, the worn stones, the delightful subdued color which pleases the eye over there. If it were not for the old missions I should find even California garish and crude, I am afraid."

This sounded like rank heresy to Nan, but she was satisfied that Aunt Helen believed what she said.

"It suits many persons better than Italy," Miss Helen went on, "but it doesn't happen to suit me so well. 'Better twenty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.' I agree with Tennyson. I am afraid, Nan dear, that I have acquired the European habit and shall never be rid of it. I suppose it is because I have lived there so long, and because my old home is mine no more."

This determined the fact that there would never be any prospect of a permanent settlement in California, for the Corners, and therefore the girl was glad that she had borne away from the cottage those mementoes which should bring to her lips a wistful smile in after days.

She and Mary Lee cast a lingering look at the rose-hung house as the automobile bore them away. "Good-bye, good-bye, dear little place," said Nan tragically. "Farewell, roses and orange trees! Good-bye, grape-vines! Adieu, my lonely fig tree! No more under our own vine and fig tree, Aunt Helen."

"Perhaps, in Italy," was the response, and Nan fell to dreaming of gondolas and Italian villas while the moments bore them toward Santa Barbara.