As he consumed the savory soup, the creamy cheese and wine, the scene impressed him as strangely significant, familiar. He dismissed an idle effort of memory in order to consider the unfortunate aspect assumed by his immediate affairs. Concerning one thing he was determined--he would ask his father to assist him no further toward his western destination. He must himself pay for the initial error, together with all its consequences, of having followed Hartmann: California was his object, he would not write to Ellerton until his westward progress was once more assured. Two courses were open to him--he could “beat” his way, getting meals when and how he was able, riding, when possible, on freight cars, doing casual jobs on the way. That he dismissed in favor of a second, which in the end, he judged, would prove more speedy. He would make his way to the nearest city, find employment in a public or private garage as chauffeur or mechanic, and, in a month at most, have the money necessary for the continuation of his journey. The household conversed vigorously in their native idiom, giving his thoughts full freedom. The glow in the west faded, sank from the room, but, suddenly, he recognized the familiar quality of his surroundings. It resembled a picture of the Holy Family on the wall of his mother's room; the bare interior was the same, the rugged features of Joseph the carpenter, the brooding beauty of Mary. He almost laughed aloud at the absurd comparison of the exalted scene of Christ's infancy with this commonplace but kindly group, the laborer with soiled and callous hands and winestained mouth, the material young woman with the string of cheap blue beads. The meal at an end the chairs were pushed back and the old woman noisily assembled the dishes. Anthony's head throbbed and burned. In passing, the mother's fingers rested upon his brow. “Not too hot,” she nodded contentedly. A consultation followed. Anthony might remain there for the night; or, if he insisted, he might drive into the city with “Nono,” who left in a few hours with a wagonload of greens for the morning market. He chose the latter, with a clumsy expression of gratitude, impatient to resume active efforts in his rehabilitation in his own mind. “Niente!” they disclaimed in chorus. XXXI