The Californians | Page 9

a word. The
only relief was Helena, who talked bravely, but far less than was her

wont; the big dark dining-room, panelled to the ceiling with redwood,
and hung with the progenitors of the haughty house of Yorba, the
gliding Chinese servants, the eight stiff miserable little girls, with their
starched white frocks, crimped hair, and vacant glances, oppressed
even that indomitable spirit. On one awful occasion when even
Helena's courage had failed her, and she was eating rapidly and
nervously, the children with one accord burst into wild hysterical
laughter. They stopped as abruptly as they had begun, staring at one
another with expanded, horrified eyes, then simultaneously burst into
tears. Helena went off into shrieks of laughter, and Magdaléna
hurriedly left the room, and in the privacy of her own wept bitterly.
When she went downstairs again, she found Helena making a brave
attempt to entertain the others in the large garden behind the house.
They were swinging and playing games, and looked much ashamed of
themselves. When they went home each kissed Magdaléna warmly, and
she forgave them and wished that she could see them oftener. She was
never allowed to go to lunch-parties herself. Occasionally she met them
at Helena's, where they romped delightedly, appropriating the entire
house and yelling like demons, but taking little notice of the quiet child
who sat by Mrs. Cartright, listening to that voluble dame's tales of the
South before the war, too shy and too Spanish to romp. Even at that
early age, they respected and rather feared her. As she grew older, it
became known that she was "booky,"--a social crime in San Francisco.
As for Helena, she was one of those favoured mortals who are
permitted to be anything they please. She, too, devoured books, but she
did so many other things besides that people forgot the idiosyncrasy, or
were willing to overlook it.
Don Roberto spent his leisure hours with his friends Hiram Polk and
Jack Belmont. There was no resource of the town unknown to these
elderly rakes; and the older they grew the more they enjoyed
themselves. On fine evenings they always rode out to the Presidio or to
the Cliff House; and it was one of the sights of the town,--these three
leading citizens and founders of the city's prosperity: Don Roberto, fat,
but riding his big chestnut with all the unalterable grace of the
Californian; Polk, stiff and spare, his narrow grey face unchanged from
year to year, ambling along on a piebald; dashing Jack Belmont, a

cavalry officer to his death, his long black moustachios flying in the
wind, a flapping hat pulled low over his abundant curls, bestriding a
mighty black. All three men were somewhat old-fashioned in their
attire; they went little into society, preferring the more various life
beyond its pale.

V
Half of the dinner passed in unbroken silence. Magdaléna sat at one end
of the table, her father at the other, their wants attended to by three
Chinese servants. Magdaléna was not eating: she was summoning up
courage to speak on a subject that was fast conquering her reticence.
Her thoughts were not interrupted. Don Roberto was a man of few
words. He had been an eloquent caballero in his youth, but had grown
to be as careful of words as of investments. He liked to be amused by
women; but, as he rightly judged, no amount of development could
make his wife and daughter amusing, so he encouraged them to hold
their tongues. He deeply resented Magdaléna's lack of beauty; all the
women of his house had been famous throughout the Californias for
their beauty. It was the duty of a Yorba to be beautiful--while young;
after thirty it mattered nothing.
Magdaléna had completed the structure of her courage. She did nothing
by halves, and she knew that she should not break down.
"Papa," she said.
"Well?"
"Helena is going to New York and to Paris to school. She is going to
live with relatives, but she will attend school."
"She need."
"I thought you liked Helena."
"I like; but she need the discipline more than all the girls in California."

"I shall be very lonely without her."
"Suppose so; but now is the time to learn plenty, and no think so much
by the play."
"I should like to go with her."
"Suppose so."
"May I?"
"No."
"But you would not miss me, nor mamma either."
"I choose you shall be educate at home. I no approve of the schools. Si
Helena Belmont was my daughter, I take the green hide reata to her
every morning; but Belmont so soffit, the school is better for her. You
stay here. No say any more about it."
"Could I not travel with her after? I want to travel."
"Si