XIV
A fortnight later Isabel announced to Gwynne that she intended to give aparty and introduce him to the young people of Rosewater.
"All the girls want to know you, Anabel tells me, and as it is a reliefto hear that they are interested in something besides cards, and asnobody else seems disposed to take the initiative, I have concluded toplay the _grande dame_ for a night. In a way it is my duty to introduceyou formally, although it would be more so if they had done anything forme since my return. However--I will ask them for next Saturday eveningif you have nothing better to do."
"One day is quite the same as another to me," said Gwynne, dryly. "Whatdo you fancy are my evening engagements? I have not even begun to readlaw with Mr. Leslie; he has gone off to southern California to see hisson. He says he is always restless in the autumn, as young people are inthe spring, but has promised me his attention before the middle of thismonth."
They were rowing down the channel of the wider portion of the creektowards Isabel's landing, their boat filled with spoil. The littlesteamboat was winding proudly through the marsh, there were a dozensails in sight; from the south came an incessant sound of firing. Thedistant mountains looked as hard as metal and there was a new crispnessin the air. Little rain had fallen, but it was no longer summer. Gwynnehad exchanged his khaki riding-clothes for corduroy; and Isabel's habit,although still dust-colored, was made of cloth instead of pongee. To-daythey wore light covert coats over their canvas and rubber.
With the passing of the heat and the advent of the daily electricbreezes sweeping up the valleys from the sea, Gwynne felt a slow liftingof the dead weight on his spirits, although he was only happy when hehad his gun in his hand. California seemed less like a voluptuousleviathan blowing poppy-dust that blunted the memory of all thingsbeyond her borders. At first he had been vaguely uneasy at the insidioussuggestion that he had transferred himself to another planet, but he wasbeginning to suspect that California, true to her sex, might havesurprises in store that would quicken his blood at least. He stilldisliked her at night: the high unfriendly arch of her sky, the sinisteratmosphere that brooded over her spaces, suggesting illimitable reacheswhere no man dwelt, or would long be tolerated. But her days seemed fullof promise, and they certainly were full of beauty.
He still fought with a longing to confide in Isabel: his apprehensionsand doubts, his haunting interrogation of inherent greatness. But heturned from the temptation in a panic of spirit, sure that he would failunless he fought his battle alone. He had pondered more and more uponhis possible debt to his mother; and the doubt that she might have beenthe foundation of his courage and self-confidence was as bitter as thathe might have owed the extraordinary rapidity of his career to theinfluence of his family and name. And Isabel's very strength alarmedhim, the more so as he felt her subtle fingers among the leaves of hisnew destiny. So he merely smiled into her eyes and made a gallantremark, a purely masculine method of emphasizing that woman is charmingin her proper place.
"I shall be delighted to dance again; particularly--it seems odd--as Ihave never danced with you. And it is a year since I have seen you in anevening gown. I have a vivid remembrance of how you looked that night atArcot, when you turned so many heads."
Isabel colored, and whether with pleasure or resentment, she had not theleast idea. But she answered, hastily:
"I feel that I have been very selfish to do nothing before. But really,it seemed hopeless until Anabel told me yesterday that there was a vastamount of interest in the young English rancher. I am afraid the girlshere will not interest you; only you should have the opportunity ofdeciding that question for yourself. But what will be really delightfulwill be to show you San Francisco. I have not been able to leave theranch for a day since that three weeks' outing I had no business totake. But I have had half a dozen resentful letters from Paula, who haspersuaded herself that you are her cousin too, and asserts her right toknow you. But neither she nor Lyster has the remotest suspicion of youridentity. Elton Gwynne might have a dozen brothers; nor is it likelythey ever heard the name. If you were an artist or actor or litterateuror composer you might be as well known in San Francisco as in London.There is no city in the United States one-half so artistic--nor so givento fads. But in European politics, the young people, at least, take asmuch interest as they do in the canals of the moon. So you are quitesafe, and Lyster is the man of all others to show you Bohemian SanFrancisco and give you a thoroughly good time. We might go down a fewdays after the party."
"That will be very jolly. I will confess that although San Francisco didnot inspire me with enthusiasm, it has occurred to me that it might bean improvement on Rosewater.... Oh, by-the-way, I had a letter from mymother not long ago, in which she said she had met some San Franciscansat Homburg--Hofer, I believe the name was--and had promised I shouldcall on them, mentioning me, of course, as John Gwynne. I have wonderedif the risk would be worth while. The amusement to be derived fromprovincial society is very doubtful."
"Provincial! What arrogance! Do please call on the Hofers. They have theold Polk house, whose history I have told you, and entertain likeprinces. Besides, Mr. Hofer is one of that small millionaire group thatis trying to clean up San Francisco municipally. He is quite worthknowing. And I want you to know San Francisco. It is my ambition to be agreat figure in San Francisco--and I have seen other cities, and mightbe enjoying myself in England this moment."
"Yes, I know," said Gwynne, smiling, and admiring her pink cheeks andflashing eyes. "And of course I don't forget that you have spurned agreat position for the sake of your beloved city. That is really at theroot of my desire to know the place. If it has a fascination I shouldlike to feel it. Fascination is a strong word and means a considerableamount of enjoyment, up to a certain point. But I am glad to have heardthe declaration of your ambition. Is it the final one?"
"It is the pedestal," said Isabel, enigmatically. "Sometime, when yougive me your confidence, I will give you mine."
"I have no confidences to make--none, at least, that can compare withthe rich experiences of your past. I told you all about Mrs. Kaye beforeI left England, and, so far, America has left me--well, unfascinated.By-the-way, Colton informs me that he and his wife have picked out someone to cheer my loneliness and--"
"Who?"
"I do not remember her name. Doubtless she will be at the party. I amcurious to see all your friends together. I have seen an astonishingnumber of pretty girls in the street, and I am wondering how they willstand the test of lighting up; the great test to my mind. I don't knowwhich I like least, the manufactured animation of the European woman ofthe world, or the too natural animation which makes the American girl'sfeatures dance all over her face. You, if you don't mind my saying so,are one of the very few Americans I have met that has something of theEnglishwoman's faculty of looking, at the same time, statuesque andglowingly alive."
"You excite my suspicion: I see no indication that you are out ofpractice. It is quite true that American women's faces, like theirvoices, lack cultivation. Well, you will see a good many pretty girls onSaturday night, and with no particular advantage of dress. Money hasnothing to do with social position in these country towns. Perhapstwenty families besides the bankers and Mr. Boutts, and the Leslies, arewell off. But many girls who are in the best society earn their living:typewriters, clerks, book-keepers, and the like. One has carried on herfather's drug-store since his death. Most of the young men that couldget away have gone, and there are not half a dozen left with any moneybehind them. The majority of beaux are either clerks, or in some smallbusiness, although there are always the doctors and clergymen--very fewyoung lawyers. Snobbery barely exists. There are lines, but purelytheological. All social groups centre about the churches. The first herehas always been the Episcopalian."
"It had occurred to me that society of any sort had ceased. Of thefamous California hospitality I have seen nothing. A number of men havedriven out and called upon me, and I have returned their calls, andfound their houses ver
y well appointed--although some member of thefamily usually answered the bell; and one morning I saw Miss Wheatonsweeping off the porch, her head tied up in a towel. All I meet appearto be very cordial and friendly, but I have not been asked to take somuch as a cup of tea in a house in the county, and I have now been heresomething like five weeks."
"California hospitality is a mere legend except in San Francisco. In thesmall communities it has never existed in my time, although they used todance a good deal before cards turned their heads. You will find just asmuch haggling over a five-cent piece here as in any small New Englandtown. These rich men have made their money by hoarding and waryinvestments, rarely speculating; and that tells immensely on thecharacter. I doubt if the State itself has ever known the meaning ofhospitality since the old ranch days, when, of course, it was prodigal.It is the San Franciscans that have kept the tradition alive; they areas reckless, as extravagant, as royally indifferent to mere money as inthe famous Fifties. If you happen to call too close to a meal-time inone of these towns, the meal will be postponed until you leave. In SanFrancisco they would give you two-thirds of their last crust. At the oldRosewater dances we never had anything but cake and lemonade--ice-creamin very hot weather. I think it would be a good idea to give them ashock and have a supper from town."
"I believe you are socially ambitious," said Gwynne, smiling. "No doubtit is your intention to make a fortune and lead San Francisco society."
"Perhaps, but not in the way you mean."
Ancestors: A Novel Page 33
