"Oh, really? If you're interested, I believe dad had quite a library on San Francisco. I remember there was a history of the stock exchange—he wanted me to read it, but I couldn't."
"You missed a good one," John Quincy informed her. "I finished it this morning. I've read five other books on San Francisco since I came."
His aunt stared at him. "What for?" she asked.
"Well—" He hesitated. "I've taken sort of a fancy to the town. I don't know—sometimes I think I'd rather like to live there."
Miss Minerva smiled grimly. "And they sent you out to take me back to Boston," she remarked.
"Boston's all right," said her nephew hastily. "It's Winterslip headquarters—but its hold has never been strong enough to prevent an occasional Winterslip from hitting the trail. You know, when I came into San Francisco harbor, I had the oddest feeling." He told them about it. "And the more I saw of the city, the better I liked it. There's a snap and sparkle in the air, and the people seem to know how to get the most out of life."
Barbara smiled on him approvingly. "Follow that impulse, John Quincy," she advised.
"Maybe I will. All this reminds me—I must write a letter." He rose and left the lanai.
"Does he really intend to desert Boston?" Barbara asked.
Miss Minerva shook her head. "Just a moment's madness," she explained. "I'm glad he's going through it—he'll be more human in the future. But as for leaving Boston! John Quincy! As well expect Bunker Hill Monument to emigrate to England."