CHAPTER XII. — IN SAN FRANCISCO.
Ben was not seasick, and enjoyed the novel experiences vastly. Miss Sinclair was less fortunate. For four days she was sick and confined to her stateroom. After that she was able to appear among the other passengers. Ben was very attentive, and confirmed the favorable opinion she had already formed of him.
At last the voyage came to a close. It was a bright, cheery morning when the steamer came within sight of San Francisco. It was not a populous and brilliant city as at present, for Ben's expedition dates back to the year 1856, only a few years after the discovery of gold. Still, there was a good-sized town on the site of the future city. The numerous passengers regarded it with rejoicing hearts, and exchanged hopeful congratulations. Probably with the exception of Miss Sinclair, all had gone out to make or increase their fortunes. Her fortune was already made. She had gone to enjoy personal liberty, and to find her plighted husband.
"Well, Ben, we have nearly reached our destination," said Miss Sinclair, as she looked earnestly in the direction of the embryo city. "You are glad, are you not?"
"Yes, Cousin Ida," said Ben slowly.
"But you look thoughtful. Is there anything on your mind?"
"I feel sorry that I am to part from you, Cousin Ida."
"Thank you, Ben, but we are not to part permanently. You don't mean to forsake me utterly?"
"Not if you need me," said our hero.
"I shall still require your services. You remember that I came out here in search of a—friend?" said Miss Sinclair, hesitating.