Up the hill steeps the little party had driven to arrive at last before the door of Mrs. Roberts' pretty home. Roses clambered over the veranda vying with fuchsias and heliotrope in their efforts to climb to the very roof of the house. Scarlet geraniums set off the pure white of calla lilies both forming a thick hedge in front of the garden. Flowers, flowers everywhere. "The trouble here is not to coax them to grow," said Mr. Pinckney, "but to keep them from over-running the whole place."
"And how do you like California?" was Mrs. Roberts' first question after she had welcomed the girls.
"We like it very strongly," replied Jack politely, who was foremost of the group.
Mrs. Roberts smiled at the odd expression, and disposed the girls about the veranda. Jack in some way felt that she must answer for the rest, since Mr. Pinckney was her special acquaintance, and so she established herself nearest to Mrs. Roberts.
"You haven't any little girls, have you?" she asked by way of beginning a chat.
"No," replied her hostess, "I am not as fortunate as your mother who has four. Don't you think she could spare me one?"
Jack considered this for a moment. "I don't know which one it could be," she said, "unless it were Mary Lee. Jean and I are twins, you know, so we couldn't be separated, and Nan always gets me out of scrapes so it wouldn't do to let her go. Do you think you would like to have Mary Lee? She behaves better than any of us and always keeps her hands clean."
Mrs. Roberts laughed. "I think it is very likely your mother wouldn't be willing to part with her any sooner than with one of the others. Have you any brothers?"
"No." Jack shook her head. "That's why they call me Jack; because mother wanted one of us to have papa's name. Have you any brothers?" she asked in turn.
Mrs. Roberts looked grave. "No," she said after a moment's silence. "I had a dear brother when I was your age, however," she added.