On the 25th day of May, of '74, Elvira and Mercedes found themselves
again under the paternal roof of their California home, in the Alamar
rancho. They could have arrived ten days sooner had they left New York
on the first of the month, as was first intended. This they were not
allowed to do, because when Mrs. L. Mechlin heard that Mercedes'
birthday would be on the 5th of May, she immediately said she could not
and would not think of allowing Mercedes to spend her eighteenth
birthday in the cars. Consequently, invitations would be issued the
following day (which was the 22d of April) for "_A fete in celebration
of Miss Alamar's birthday, on the 5th day of May_."
The invitations were issued thus early to prevent friends of Mrs.
Mechlin's from going into the country for the summer, as many of them
did every year, in May. All, however, accepted, and waited most
graciously.
The season was already too far advanced, and the nights were getting too
warm to enjoy dancing, so Mrs. Mechlin thought it would be better to
have an excursion to West Point; to charter a river steamer, and thus
pass the day on the water; to take breakfast on board on the way to the
Point; visit the Post; see the cadets drill and review; and re-embark;
take dinner on board, and then the young people dance on deck, as there
would be a full band to give them music.
This was the programme--which though decided upon hurriedly, on their
return from Baltimore, where they had been visiting--was carried out
successfully. All their pleasure excursions had been equally delightful.
They had visited Boston first, then they went to Philadelphia, intending
to remain only three or four days, but when they were there, Mrs.
Mechlin's relatives in Baltimore sent urgent invitations to visit them,
so there was nothing else to do but accept. Thus the jaunt to
Philadelphia was extended to Baltimore, and might have been prolonged,
had not Elvira refused to be separated from George one day more. This
young gentleman, on his part, seemed to have thought, too, that Elvira
had been away long enough. For as the party were waiting for the train
to move out of the depot who should come aboard but this same young
gentleman, George Mechlin.
"The darling," said Elvira, perfectly overjoyed at the sight of that
beloved apparition, throwing her arms about his neck.
"Precious," said he, clasping her to his heart.
And now Elvira and Mercedes, surrounded by their beloved family, were
relating this episode and many other occurrences of their eastern visit,
all sitting in their favorite front veranda.
The Holman girls were there, too. They had made several visits to
Carlota and Rosario within the last ten months, but this time they came
to see Elvira and Mercedes. Mr. Holman himself had accompanied them,
that being a good pretext to question George closely regarding Texas
Pacific matters. Mr. Holman had invested all his ready money in San
Diego, placing implicit faith in the fact that the building of the Texas
Pacific was a measure of national importance so manifest that Congress
would never have the hardihood to deny it assistance, nor would be so
lacking in sense of honor, sense of justice, as to deprive millions of
American people of a railway so much needed. These had been the reasons,
he alleged, for plunging headlong into real estate speculations,
followed closely by his friends, Don Mariano and Mr. James Mechlin.
These three gentlemen now sat at the eastern end of the veranda,
listening to what George said that he and his uncle had learned in
Washington regarding the prospect of that unlucky railroad; while the
ladies were equally entertained, listening to Elvira and Mercedes, on
the western end of the same veranda.
"But what has become of the handsome Clarence? Why is he not here?"
Corina inquired, seeing Everett and Victoriano riding up with Gabriel
towards the house.
Elvira informed her that on their arrival at San Francisco, Clarence
found it necessary to visit his farm, and thence to go to Arizona on
business, but would return about the first of July.
"We heard that his mine is in bonanza," Amelia said.
"That it has been in bonanza ever since he bought it--hasn't he told you
that?" Corina added.
"No; he only said that the ore was very rich," Elvira replied.
Victoriano and Everett now came in and took seats near the ladies.
Gabriel joined the gentlemen, and soon was deeply interested in their
conversation, it of course being upon that subject--the railroad--which
filled the minds and hearts of all the San Diego people, absorbing all
their faculties and all their money.
"How are all the ladies of your family? Well?" Amelia asked of Everett.
"Yes, thank you. They are all well, and I think they will be up this
evening--at least, some of them will. I heard words to that effect,"
Everett replied.
"I hope all will come," Elvira said.
"What? Mr. Darrell, senior, also?" Corina asked.
"Certainly. Why not?" Mercedes answered.
"We were speaking of the ladies--but if Mr. Darrell should call, we will
be happy to receive him with sincere cordiality," Elvira added.
"All of which would be thrown away upon the stiffest neck in San Diego
County," Victoriano observed.
Everett laughed.
"Why, Tano! What makes you talk like that?" Mercedes exclaimed,
reddening with evident annoyance.
"Because his '_butt-headedness_' is like that of a vicious old mule,
which no one began to break until he was ten years old, and loves to
kick from pure cussedness," Victoriano explained, with free use of
slang.
"If Mr. Darrell has said or done anything to vex you, the best thing is
not to go to his house, but it is not very courteous to speak as you
have in the presence of his son," Dona Josefa said.
"I forgive him," Everett said, patting Tano on the back.
"Not go to his house!" Tano exclaimed. "That is exactly what the old
pirate wants. It would be _nuts_ for the old Turk if I stayed away. Not
much--I won't stay away. I'll go when he is at _the colony_ with his
sweetly-scented pets."
"Where is the colony?" Mercedes asked.
"That is the new name for the large room next to the dining-room, which
Clarence said he built for a 'growlery.' Alice called it the
'_squattery_,' because father always receives the settlers there; but
mother changed the name to '_colony_' to make it less offensive, and
because the talk there is always about locating, or surveying, or
fencing land--always land--as it would be in a new colony," Everett
explained.
"Whether he be at the colony or not, you should not go if he does not
wish you to visit his house," Dona Josefa said to Tano.
"But we all wish it--my mother and every one of her children. Father
doesn't say anything about Tano's coming or not, but he is cross to all
of us, and don't have the politeness to be more amiable in Tano's
presence--which, of course, is very disagreeable," Everett replied.
"I think Mrs. Darrell ought to put her foot down, and have it out with
the old filibuster," Tano asserted.
"We will see what he will do when Clarence comes," Everett said.
Everett thought as all the family did--that Clarence, being the favorite
child of the old man, and having naturally a winning manner and great
amiability, combined with persuasiveness, would influence his father,
and dispel his bad humor. But if the family had known what was boiling
and seething in the cauldron of their father's mind, they would have
perceived that, for once, neither Clarence's influence, nor yet the more
powerful one wielded by Mrs. Darrell, would at present be as effective
as they heretofore had been.
Time alone must be the agent to operate on that hard skull. Time and
circumstances which, fortunately, no one as yet was misanthrophic enough
to foresee. The fact was, that no one of his family had understood
William Darrell. It can hardly be said that he understood himself, for
he sincerely believed that he had forever renounced his "_squatting_"
propensities, and honestly promised his wife that he would not take up
land claimed by any one else. But no sooner was he surrounded by men
who, though his inferiors, talked loudly in assertion of their "_rights
under the law_;" and no sooner had he thousands of broad acres before
his eyes--acres which, by obeying the laws of Congress, he could make
his own--than he again felt within him the old squatter of Sonoma and
Napa valleys. That mischievous squatter had not lain dead therein; he
had been slumbering only, and unconsciously dreaming of the advantages
that the law really gave to settlers. Alongside the sleeping squatter
had also slumbered Darrell's vanity, and this was, as it is generally in
every man, the strongest quality of his mind, the chief commanding
trait, before which everything must give way.
Mrs. Darrell had heretofore been the only will that had dared stand
before it, but Mrs. Darrell, being a wise little woman, not always made
direct assaults upon the strong citadel--oftener she made flank
movements and laid sieges. This time, however, all tactics had thus far
failed, and Mrs. Darrell withdrew all her forces, and waited, in
"masterly inactivity," reinforcements when Clarence returned.
What exasperated Darrell the most, and had ended by putting him in a bad
humor, was a lurking self-reproach he could not silence, a consciousness
that having promised Don Mariano to pay for his land whenever the title
was considered settled, that it was fair to suppose he ought to pay now.
But on the other hand, he had also promised the settlers to stand by
them, and was determined to do so. Thus he stood in his own mind
self-accused, unhappy and unrepentant, but resolutely upholding a lost
cause. He avoided the society of his family with absurd persistency.
After meals he would fill his pipe, and march himself off to the farther
end of his grain fields; resting his elbows on the fence boards, and
turning his back upon the house which contained his dissenting family,
would puff his smoke in high dudgeon, like an overturned locomotive
which had run off its track, and became hopelessly ditched. In that
frame of mind, he thought himself ready to do battle against all his
family, but he knew he dreaded Clarence's return.
However, that event had at last arrived, and there was Clarence now on
the porch--just come from Arizona--kissing all the ladies of the family
and hugging all the males, not omitting the old man, who was literally
as well as figuratively taken off his feet by the strong arms of the
dreaded Clarence.
"Clary is so much in love, father, that he comes courting you, too,"
Everett said, laughing, as they all went into the parlor.
"I suppose so," Darrell answered, not looking at any one's face,
excepting that of the clock on the chimney mantel.
Mrs. Darrel's eyes, however, were not in the least evasive--they met
those of Clarence, and he read in them a volume of what was troubling
his father's mind. He longed to have a talk with that true-hearted and
clear-headed, well-beloved mother, but he must wait--for now came Tisha
to announce that luncheon was on the table. She was grinning with
delight to see her favorite Massa Clary again, and Clarence jumped up
and ran to throw his arms around her, making that faithful heart throb
with unalloyed happiness, for she loved him from his babyhood, just if
he had been her own child.
"I love them all, missis--all your dear children," she would say to Mrs.
Darrell; "and they are all good children; but Massa Clary I love the
best of all. Next comes Miss Alice. But Massa Clary took my heart when
he was six months old, and had the measles. He was the best, sweetest
baby I ever saw, and so beautiful." Thus Tisha would run on, if you let
her follow the bent of her inclination, for Clarence was a theme she
never tired of.
All sorts of questions now showered upon Clarence about New York, about
Washington, about San Francisco, and about Arizona--all of which he
answered most amiably.
"And are the Mechlins very grand? As rich as one might suppose? hearing
the Holman and Alamar girls talk of the parties and excursions that Mr.
Lawrence Mechlin gave in honor of Elvira?" Jane asked.
"The excursion to West Point was to celebrate Mercedes' birthday," Alice
observed.
"Yes, the Mechlins must be rich, to judge by their style of living.
Their social position is certainly very high," Clarence replied.
"You had a delightful time, Clary?" Everett said.
"Yes, indeed; most delightful," was the answer.
"We, too, have had lots of fun, with old Mathews on the rampage, like an
old hen who got wet and lost her only chicken," said Willie, at the top
of his voice.
"Willie!" Mrs. Darrell said, to impose silence, but as Clarence and
Everett laughed, and his father did not seem particularly displeased,
Willie added:
"And the old man gets so mad, that he perspires, and smoke comes out of
his back, as if his clothes were on fire."
"Oh, Willie! how you exaggerate," Lucy exclaimed.
"I don't. He snorts and clucks and growls and snarls. Romeo says he
miauls like a disappointed hyena."
"That will do. You must not repeat such unkind criticisms. Romeo is
always ridiculing Mr. Mathews," Mrs. Darrell said.
"Old Mathews is in worse humor since the Don began to send his cattle
away," Webster said.
"Why so?" Clarence asked.
"Because they made nice targets for his rifle," Everett replied.
"Scandalous!" Clarence exclaimed.
"He threatens to shoot George Mechlin, Tom Hughes says," Webster added.
"Why?" Clarence asked.
"Because he got the appeal dismissed," answered Webster.
"He is foolish to suppose that if George hadn't had it dismissed that no
one else would," Clarence said.
"I met the old man this morning. He stopped his wagon to ask me if
father knew that Congress had passed the appropriation for money to
survey lands in California. I told him I hadn't heard, and he went off
whipping his horses, and swearing at Don Mariano and George Mechlin,"
Everett said.
"I thought there would be a better feeling when the Don's cattle should
be sent off, as they were the principal cause of irritation," Clarence
observed.
"And it is so. Only those boys--Romeo, Tom and Jack Miller--are always
ridiculing or teasing Mathews," Darrell said.
"Why, father!" Everett exclaimed; "the fathers of those boys are as bad
as Mathews, and old Gasbang is worse yet!"
"Gasbang was always dishonest, but he is worse now, at Peter Roper's
instigation," Darrell said.
"Gasbang says that he and Roper will send the Don to the poor-house,"
Everett said.
"Not while I live," Clarence replied; adding, "and how is everybody at
the Alamar house--all well?"
Up started Willie and Clementine, eager to be the first to tell Clarence
the great news.
"They had two arrivals," Mrs. Darrell said.
"Oh, Clary! you never saw prettier babies in all your life! Both have
the loveliest blue eyes," Clementine exclaimed, joining her hands, as if
in prayer, as Tisha always did when speaking of Clarence's babyhood.
"The boy has gray eyes," Willie interposed, with authority not to be
controverted. "He hasn't no blue eyes."
"How do you know? You haven't seen them, but _I_ have," Clementine
asserted; "and the little girl is exactly the image of Miss Mercedes.
She has Miss Mercedes' blue eyes, exactly, with long, curling lashes,
the little thing."
"The girl looks like Don Gabriel, as she ought to," Willie stated in a
peremptory manner, not to be contradicted, and whilst he discussed with
Clementine the looks of the babies, Clarence was informed by his mother
and sisters that Elvira was the happy mother of a big, handsome boy, and
Lizzie rejoiced in the possession of a beautiful little girl, which
weighed nearly as much as her boy cousin. That Dona Josefa and Mrs.
Beatrice Mechlin were nearly crazy with happiness, but that the craziest
of all was Mr. James Mechlin, who made more "_fuss_" over those two
babies than either Gabriel or George, and went from one house to the
other all day long, watching each baby, and talking about them by the
hour.