Her guest, who rose to meet the newcomer, looked as if he must be a changeling in the blooming and lusty brood of Jerry McCormick. While his sisters were women of that richness of coloring and contour peculiar to California, Tod was not five feet and a half high, and was thin, meager, sallow-skinned, and weak-eyed. A thatch of lifeless hair covered his narrow head, and a small and sickly mustache had been coaxed into existence on his upper lip. He was in reality twenty-seven years old, but he looked hardly twenty. Even his clothes, of the most fashionable make and texture, could not impart to him an air of elegance or style. Their very splendor seemed to heighten his insignificance. "Howdy, Gault," he said, his small and weazened countenance lightened by a fleeting and evidently perfunctory smile. "You're early, but I'm earlier." "I came to see my brother," said the older man, rather stiffly, for though he knew Tod to be good-natured and harmless, he did not like him. "What a pity!" said Letitia. "Maud and Mortimer are both out. They're lunching at the Murrays'. But they'll be back soon now. Won't you sit here with us?" Though Tod's annoyance at this proposition did not find vent in words, it was plain to be seen in the dejected and sullen expression that settled on his face. With his hands in his pockets, he stood looking down on his feet in pointed patent-leather shoes, balancing absently on his toes and heels. "No, thanks," said Gault, whose dislike of the young man did not go far enough to blight his afternoon. "I'll go into the library. I've got some letters to read over and answer, and I'll do it now, while I am waiting." He turned away and passed through the wide hall-space to the library, a room at the back of the house, where two large windows commanded a view of the Golden Gate and the bay. He had picked up a magazine from a table in the hall, and now, seating himself, prepared to look at it. But he presently threw it aside, and abandoned himself to a dreamy survey of the view. The magnificent panorama of hills and water lay still and enormous under the afternoon sun. It was not late enough for the summer's drought to have burned the hills, and the nearer ones were a faint, mellow green. Their hollows were filled with clear, amethyst shadows, and the sea lay at their bases, motionless and level like a blue floor. The extraordinary vividness which marks the Californian landscape was softened by the almost imperceptible haze which overlay the scene. The watcher clasped his hands behind his head, and looked with troubled eyes at this splendid prospect. From the room beyond came the murmur of conversation, every now and then interrupted by the high, cackling laugh of Tod McCormick. Presently there was a break in the voices, they grew louder and decreased, the hall door banged, and Letitia came rustling into the room. "It's too bad Maud and Mortimer are not back yet," she said. "You'll have to talk to me."