The nights were lovely, with a full moon in the azure sky, and the sea air, neither cold nor warm, but of that California temperature, which seems to invite people to be happy, giving to all an idea of the perfect well-being we expect to find in the hereafter.
There was a great deal of freight to be landed at Santa Barbara. The passengers going to San Francisco were already on board. Still the steamer tarried. Some lady friends of Elvira, who were going north had come aboard, and as they had much to say, took her away to their staterooms.
“Wait for me here, I'll return in half an hour,” said she to George; but he thought he knew how ladies measure time when engaged in talking, so he slowly arose and said he would go to play cribbage with the captain.
The steamer now shivered and trembled, as if awakening from a nice nap. The wheels revolved lazily and then she was off, dragging a luminous wake of myriads of evanescent diamonds.
“If you wish to go, Mr. Darrell, please do so; do not remain on my account,” said Mercedes, when George rose to go.
“Not at all. I remain entirely on my own, as I do not particularly desire to play cut-throat cribbage, and as it is too early for you to retire, suppose you permit me to remain until your sister returns.”
“Certainly, do so, else I'll stay,” said George, going.
“Have I offended you in any way?” Clarence asked.
“No, of course not. What a question. What makes you ask that?”
“Because you must know it would be cruel punishment to send me off.”