"Then you and she will get along. Victor will entertain Isabel, of course. You can't have him all the time," with a touch of malice.
Laverne turned scarlet.
Up and down the bay seemed alive with vessels of every kind and degree, and some sailboats keeping out of the way of the larger craft.
Victor had the big family carriage with its three seats.
"I'm going to sit with the driver," announced Olive.
Victor assisted the ladies in, expressing his pleasure that it was a fine day and that they could all come. The two handsome horses flung up their heads and pawed the ground a little. They went somewhat south-easterly, passed the streets that already had quite a city aspect, and then turned into a road bordered with magnificent trees and almost paved with great violets of all colors, and farther back a wild profusion of bloom. Geraniums like small trees, brilliant in scarlet, rose, and pink. Magnificent palms, shining olive trees, and oranges that had been cultivated to perfection. Laverne drew long breaths of the perfumed air.
All at the southern side was an immense garden. At the north it was protected by a great belt of woods. How different from their rocky mound, but she recalled the fact that Victor had found some points to admire.
The mansion was broad and low, the centre reaching up two stories with a sharp peak, the wings but one story. A porch ran the whole length of it, shaded by heliotrope trained as a vine and full of purple bloom, and passion flowers in lavender, purplish red and white, with touches of grayish purple. These climbed over lattices, leaving spaces between that looked like French windows reaching to the ground. It was really a succession of rooms. Easy chairs, lounging chairs (one on wheels for Isola when she felt indisposed for walking), small tables with books and papers, or a work-basket, and down one end a large one with various dishes of fruit.
Mrs. Savedra welcomed them in a most cordial manner. She was hardly medium height; indeed, she looked short beside these taller women. Her black hair was a bed of ripples with curling ends, her eyes a soft dusky black, and her complexion a rather pale sort of olive with a dash of color in the cheeks.
Victor could hardly be said to resemble her, and yet he had taken some of her best points.