The house was far from finished by the end of September when they
arrived. Their idea of what it should be had developed so fast under the
stimulus of the young architect that they could not recognize the
original conception in the imposing structure that awaited them. It was
meant to be an adaptation of a Spanish villa, in two wings, with a long
elevation upon the ravine connecting the two. There was also to be a
complicated set of terraces and forecourt, formal gardens, pool, and
orangery, which required an immense amount of masonry work that had
scarce been begun. Nevertheless they attempted to install themselves in
spite of the fact that the workmen were cluttered all over the place,
and moved into the wing that was most nearly completed, husband and wife
occupying a ground floor suite that was meant for bachelor guests, the
child and its nurse being housed temporarily upstairs in the main house.
Adelle did not like this separation from the child, but there seemed
nothing else to do for the present.
That autumn and winter they lived at close quarters with an army of
workmen, who, having three masters,--Adelle, Archie, and the
architect,--took advantage of the resulting confusion to move as slowly
as possible. Adelle was not impatient as Archie had been with the ranch.
She liked directing the work, and discovered that she had her own ideas,
which necessitated extensive changes. She spent almost all her time on
the place, while Archie was often away for days at a time in the city,
attending to business or amusing himself. Adelle scarcely noticed his
absences. With her little boy and the house she had her hands quite
full, and it was easier to do things when Archie was not there to
interfere.
Theirs was a rare location, even in this lovely land, as all their
neighbors said. Behind the house the land rose rapidly to a steep ridge
of hill that divided the valley from the coast valleys, and thus
protected them with its crown of tall eucalyptus trees from the raw sea
winds. Their hillside had been thickly planted to cedars and eucalyptus,
and the house looked out from its niche in the hill upon the fertile
valley in which Bellevue lies, dotted with rich country estates and
fruit orchards. Farther east shimmered the waters of the Bay, and on
clear days the blue tops of the Santa Clara mountains melted into the
clouds beyond the Bay. Immediately beneath the house was the canon,
through which in the rainy season a stream of water gushed melodiously.
The steep sides of this canon were covered with a growth of aromatic
plants and shrubs, the pale blues of the wild lilac touching it here and
there. Like a bit of real California, "Highcourt," as they had called
the place, was a perpetual bower of bloom and fragrance and sunshine,
with a broad panorama of valley, sea, and mountain to gaze upon. Adelle
loved to wander about her new possession, exploring its every corner,
and when she was tired she could come back to the sunny forecourt and
supervise the workmen, making petty decisions, summoning the foreman and
the architect for consultation. She thus planned so many alterations
which entailed delays that Archie grumbled that they would never get to
rights and be able to have people to dinner. Adelle did not seem to
care. She had not profited by Irene's advice, and made no effort to
create a social atmosphere. Irene apparently gave her up as a hopeless
case, and rarely came up the long driveway to Highcourt. The Pointers
were still anchored in California, thanks to Seaboard and the darkening
financial horizon, and Irene was improving her time by "living hard,"
which was her philosophy. Adelle knew that she and Archie saw much of
each other, were very good friends, indeed, but the intimacy did not
disturb her. She no longer had that passionate jealousy of Archie's
every movement which had rendered the first years of their marriage so
irksome to Archie. It is doubtful if she would have resented his
intimacy with any woman, but his "affair" with Irene Pointer merely
amused her. Archie was no longer her most precious possession....
The winter after their return to California a new specter appeared--the
last that Adelle expected to encounter in her life. Archie hinted that
it would be well to go slow with their "improvements" at Highcourt. The
times were getting bad, he said, and the market looked as if they would
get worse rather than better. Every one was talking of a dark future,
unsettled conditions industrially in the country, and "tightening
money," whatever that might mean. Adelle could not see why it should
affect her solid fortune based upon Clark's Field. To be sure, men
talked business more than usually, the ill treatment that capital was
receiving, the "social unrest," and such matters, which did not interest
her. She thought that Archie had caught the trick of complaining about
business and cursing social conditions in America from the men at his
clubs, most of whom were obliged to earn their living by business. If
the worst came, if America became impossible, as Nelson Carhart was
always predicting, for "decent people to endure," they could go abroad
until things straightened out again.
Then in midwinter came the Seaboard smash. As a matter of fact, that
crazy enterprise had been tottering upon the brink of failure from its
inception, and Archie was merely one of the stool pigeons on whom the
shrewd promoters had unloaded their "underwriting" in approved style. He
came back from San Francisco one night very glum and announced
peremptorily that they must cut down their expenses and "quit all this
fool building." He wanted to sell the ranch, but it could not be sold in
these depressed times when rich men were hoarding their pennies like
paupers. And there began at Highcourt a regime of retrenchment, bitterly
fought by Adelle--the rich man's poverty where there is no actual want,
but a series of petty curtailments and borrowings and sometimes a real
shortness of cash, almost as squalid as the commoner sort of poverty.
Adelle could not understand the reason for this sudden change, and
refused absolutely to stop all work upon Highcourt and go abroad again
for the sake of economy. Why should she be made uncomfortable, just
because Archie had been foolish about investments and felt hard up? So
they had some words, and Archie went oftener than ever to San Francisco,
frequently staying in the city for days at a time, which was bad for
Adelle's fortune, had she but realized it. But, as has been shown, she
had come now to the time when she felt relieved if Archie was not at
home, glum and sulky, or nagging and fighting her will. With the place
and her boy she had enough to fill her mind, and easily forgot all money
troubles when Archie was not there to remind her of them. Somehow they
raised the money for the workmen, and the building went on, more slowly.