American fiction -- 20th century; American fiction -- California; Western stories
The adieus were being said in the chamber of entomology, which was
somewhat overcrowded and faintly impregnated with the odor of _corrosive
sublimate_. From the windows overlooking the bay there was visible the
expanse of purple water and the tawny, sunburnt hills beyond, while
pale-blue misty mountains marked the horizon with an undulating outline.
A ship under full sail--a glorious and inspiring sight--was bearing down
before the stiff westerly breeze.
Mme. Lillian made an apt quotation which terminated with a Delsartean
gesture and a rising inflection that seemed to exact something from
somebody; the comedienne struck one of her property attitudes, so
irresistibly comic that every one applauded, and Mme. Lillian laughed
herself to tears; then they all drifted toward the door. As mankind in
general has much of the sheep in him, one guest having got as far as the
threshold, the others followed; Paul was left alone with the Englishes
and those clever youngsters, whose coachman, accustomed to waiting
indefinitely at the Lodge, was dutifully dozing on the box seat. The
children began to romp immediately upon the departure of the last guest,
and during the riotous half-hour that succeeded, there was a fresh
arrival. The door-bell rang; Mrs. English, who was close at hand, turned
to answer it and at once bubbled over with unaffected delight. Harry,
still having his defunct legions in solemn review, recognized a cheery,
un-American voice, and cried, "There she is at last!" as he hastened to
meet the newcomer.
Paul was called to the parlor where a young lady of the ultra-blonde
type stood with a faultlessly gloved hand in the hand of each of her
friends; she was radiant with life and health. Of all the young ladies
Paul could at that moment remember having seen, she was the most
exquisitely clad; the folds of her gown fell about her form like the
drapery of a statue; he was fascinated from the first moment of their
meeting. He noticed that nothing about her was ever disarranged; neither
was there anything superfluous or artificial, in manner or dress. She
was in his opinion an entirely artistic creation. She met him with a
perfectly frank smile, as if she were an old friend suddenly discovering
herself to him, and when Harry English had placed the hand of this
delightful person in one of Paul's she at once withdrew the other, which
Mrs. English fondly held, and struck it in a hearty half-boyish manner
upon their clasped hands, saying, "Awfully glad to see you, Paul!" and
she evidently meant it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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