The little party that had taken the "Hazard of new fortunes" were prospering. Now and then Dick Folsom had been seized with a mining fever that had required all the ingenious arguments of his mother to combat. Then, seeing an opportunity, and having good backers in the Dawsons, she had opened a sort of Home Hotel that at once became a great favorite on account of its excellent bread and rolls, and now Dick had business enough on his hands, though it did not quench his longing for a more adventurous life.
Miss Gaines, too, had extended her borders. She had taken a place on an attractive street and opened a real business of dressmaking and millinery, and was largely patronized, Boston being considered really higher style than New York. Jacintha Vanegas had married, and Miss Gaines had persuaded the mother to sell her old house as the lot was needed for an important improvement. So Señora Vanegas came to keep house for her, and Felicia to be her right-hand woman.
"It's worlds better than teaching school," she explained to Miss Holmes. "When you once rise to a positive dictum in style, people give in to you and pay you any price. I'm not going to spend all my time on furbelows. After a few years I shall retire and take some journeys about the world. One of my cousins is anxious to come out and I shall send for her. As for marrying—I certainly shall not take a man to hang on to me, as one might easily every month in the year."
The hard times had touched Jason Chadsey rather severely, but he held up his head bravely. For he saw that San Francisco must be the brain of the outlying country. The treaty with Japan would open up new ventures. There was to be a line of mail steamers from San Francisco to Shanghai. And all up and down the coast from Puget Sound to the Isthmus vessels were plying, bringing the treasures of other lands.
The visit to Oaklands had been beautifully arranged. Mrs. Savedra had sent a written invitation to her sister-in-law, enclosing a note to Miss Holmes. They were to come early in the morning, at least the big carriage would meet the boat at ten. It was across the bay, to be sure, but only like a ferry.
Olive took upon herself the real significance of the visit. They were her relatives, not even her stepmother's. Her aunt was quite French still and talked with a pretty accent, and was really very charming, though she did not go much into society.
"Of course, you've seen Victor—you can't help liking him, you know. Isola is only a year younger, but she's a queer, fretful sort of girl, who always has a headache if she doesn't want to do the things you choose. Elena is a little witch, good and bad, sweet and sour all in a minute. Then some children died, and Andrea is a sweet, big, spoiled baby."
Laverne laughed.
"If Isola was like most girls we could have lots of fun. I hate half-sick people, don't you? I want them to be ill enough to stay in bed, or else able to have some fun. She plays beautifully on the organ, though, and the piano."
"Oh, I do love music," declared Laverne. "I could listen forever."