Cupids Understudy | Page 6

after
luncheon, and Blakely and I were sitting on the rear platform of our car,
the last car in the train. It was a heavenly day of blue sky and sunshine;
the desert was fresh from recent rain. And then a few, dear, faltered
words changed the desert into a garden that reached to the rim of the
world.
"I love you. I didn't mean to tell you quite yet, but I . . . I . . ."
"I know. And it makes me so happy."
. . . . . .
You never saw anybody so delighted as Dad was when we told him.
"This makes me glad clear through," he said. "Blakely, boy, I couldn't
love you more if you were my own son. Elizabeth, girl, come and kiss
your old Daddy."
"And you aren't surprised, Dad?"
"Not a bit."
"He's known I've loved you, all along. Haven't you, Tom?"
"I may have suspected it."

"But I'm sure he never dreamed I could possibly care for you," I said.
And then, because I was too happy to do anything else, I went to my
state-room, and had a good cry.
I have read somewhere that Love would grow old were it not for the
tears of happy women.
Chapter Six
When we flew down the grade into California, everything seemed
settled; we were going to Santa Barbara where Dad was building a little
palace for his Elizabeth as a grand surprise (Blakely's mother was in
Santa Barbara); we would take rooms at the same hotel; I would be
presented to Mrs. Porter, and as soon as the palace on the hill was
completed--a matter of two or three months--Blakely, and Dad, and I
would move into it. Only, first, Blakely and I were going to San
Bernardino on our wedding trip.
Wasn't that sweet of Blakely? When I told him about San Bernardino,
and the livery-stable, and the cottage where Dad and I used to live, he
said he'd rather spend our honeymoon there than any place in the world.
Of course Dad had never sold the cottage, and it was touching to see
how pleased he was with our plan.
"You'll find everything in first-class condition," he said; "I go there
often myself. I built a little house in one corner of the garden for the
caretakers. You should see that gold-of-Ophir rose, Elizabeth; it has
grown beyond belief."
When we reached Oakland--where our car had to be switched off and
attached to a coast line, train--we found we had four hours to kill, so
Dad and Blakely and I (it was Blakely's idea) caught the boat across to
San Francisco.
What do you suppose that dear boy wanted us to go over there for? And
where do you suppose he took us? He took us straight to Shreve's, and
he and Dad spent a beautiful two hours in choosing an engagement ring
for me. So when we finally landed in Santa Barbara I was wearing a

perfect love of a ruby on the third finger of my left hand. I was wearing
my heart on my sleeve, too; I didn't care if all the world saw that I
adored Blakely. We arrived in Santa Barbara in the morning, and it was
arranged that Blakely should lunch with his mother and devote himself
to her during the afternoon, but he was to dine with us in our rooms.
Naturally, I had a lot to do, supervising the unpacking of my clothes,
and straightening things about in our sitting-room so that it wouldn't
look too hotelish. Then Dad wouldn't be happy till I'd inspected my
new palace on the hill.
It was an alarming looking pile. If anybody but Dad had been
responsible for it, I should have said it was hideous. Poor old Dad! He
knows absolutely nothing about architecture. But of course I raved over
it, and, really, when I came to examine it closer, I found it had its good
points. Covered with vines, it would have been actually beautiful.
Virginia creeper grows like mad in California and with English ivy and
Lady Banksia roses to help out, I was sure I could transform my palace
into a perfect. bower in almost no time. I was awfully glad I had seen it
first, for now. I could break the bad news gently to Blakely. If I were a
man, I couldn't love a girl who owned such a hideous house.
But I didn't have a chance to talk house to Blakely for some time.
When he came in to dinner that night he looked awfully depressed; he
brightened up a lot, though, when he saw me. I had on my most
becoming gown, and Dad had ordered a grand dinner, including his
own special brand of