“I think it is,” said his grandfather, Mr. Dinsmore.
“I also; I feel as if I had been neglecting my business shamefully,” sighed Chester.
At that Dr. Harold shook his head smilingly. “Don’t let conscience reproach you, Chester, for what has probably saved you from invalidism and perhaps prolonged your life for years.”
“Well, cousin doctor, you will surely admit that I am well enough to go back to work now?” laughed Chester.
“Perhaps; but wait a little till you hear a plan I have to propose. Mother,” he went on, turning to her, “I met a gentleman yesterday who has just returned from California, which he pronounces the loveliest, most salubrious section of our country, and what he had to say of its climate and scenery has aroused in me a strong desire to visit it, taking you all with me—especially those of our party who are my patients.”
“Hardly at this time of year; though, I suppose, Harold,” she replied, giving him a look of loving appreciation, “it would seem wiser to move in a northerly direction before the summer heats come on.”
“Well, mother, this gentleman says the summers there are really more enjoyable than the winters, and the map shows us that Santa Barbara is a few degrees farther north than we are here, and San Francisco some few degrees north of that. It is not a tropical, but a semi-tropical climate, and for every month in the year you need the same sort of clothing that you wear in New York or Chicago in the winter. He tells me that for two-thirds of the year the weather is superb—the heat rare above 68 degrees and almost always tempered by a refreshing breeze from the ocean or the mountains. Sometimes there are fogs, but they don’t bring with them the raw, searching dampness of our eastern ones. Indeed, from all I have heard and read of the climate I think it would be most beneficial for these patients of mine,” Harold concluded, glancing smilingly from one to another.
“And a most enjoyable trip for us all, I have no doubt,” said Captain Raymond.
“How about the expense?” queried Chester.