The Sisters-In-Law | Page 9

they call it now, but distinctly

of the old régime."
"There is nothing I should like better. Thank you so much." And there
was no doubting the sincerity of his voice, a rather deep and manly
voice which harmonized with the admirable mold of his ancestors.

III
Alexina appeared. "Breakfast is ready for all of us," she announced.
"We cooked it on the old stove in the woodhouse. I helped, for Maggie
is a wreck. Martha has swept the plaster out of the dining-room. Come
along. I'm starved."
Young Dwight sprang to his feet and stood over Mrs. Groome with his
charming deferential manner, but he had far too much tact to offer
assistance as she rose heavily from her chair.
"Are you really going to give me breakfast? I am sure I could not get
any elsewhere."
"We are only too happy. Your coming has been a real God-send. Will
you give me your arm? This morning--not the earthquake but those
dreadful fires--has quite upset me."
He escorted her into the dark old house with glowing eyes. He had seen
so little of the world that he was still very young at thirty and his nature
was sanguine, but he had never dared to dream of even difficult access
to this most exclusive home in San Francisco. Its gloom, its
tastelessness, relieved only by the splendid Italian pieces, but served to
accentuate its aristocratic aloofness from those superb but too recently
furnished mansions of which he knew so little outside of their
ballrooms.
And he was breakfasting with the sequestered Mrs. Groome and the
loveliest girl he had ever seen, at seven o 'clock in the morning.
He looked about eagerly as they entered the dining-room.. It was long

and narrow with a bow window at the end. The furniture was black
walnut; two immense sideboards were built into the walls. It looked
Ballinger, and it was.
It was heavily paneled; the walls above were tinted a pale buff and set
with cracked oil paintings of men in the uniforms of several
generations. The ceiling was frescoed with fish and fowl. There had
been a massive bronze chandelier over the table. It now lay on the floor,
but as James had turned off the gas in the meter while the earthquake
was still in progress the air of the large sunny room was untainted, and
the windows were open.
The breakfast was smoked but not uneatable and the strong coffee
raised even Mrs. Groome's wavering spirits. They were all talking
gayly when James entered abruptly. He was very pale.
"City's doomed, ma'am. Thirty fires broke out simultaneous, and the
wind blowing from the southeast. A chimney fell on the fire-chief's bed
and he can't live. People runnin' round like their heads was cut off and
thousands pouring out of the city--over to Oakland and Berkeley.
Lootin' was awful and General Funston has ordered out the troops.
Pipes broken and not a drop of water. They're goin' to dynamite, but
only the fire-chief knew how. Everybody says the whole city'll go,
Doomed, that's what it is. Better let me tell Mike to harness up and
drive you down to San Mateo."
Mrs. Groome had also turned pale, but she cut a piece of bacon with
resolution in every finger of her large-veined hands.
"I do not believe it, and I shall not run--like those people south of
Market Street. I shall stay until the last minute at all events. The roads
at least cannot burn."
"This house ought to be safe enough, ma 'am, standin' quite alone on
this hill as it does; but it's a question of food. We never keep much of
anything in the house, beyond what's needed for the week, and the
California Market's right in the fire zone. And the smoke will be
something terrible when the fire gets closer."

"I shall stay in my own house. There are grocery stores and butcher
shops in Fillmore Street. Go and buy all you can." She handed him a
bunch of keys. "You will find money in my escritoire. Tell the maids to
fill the bathtubs while there is any water left in the mains. You may go
if you are frightened, but I stay here."
"Very well, and you needn't have said that, ma'am. I've been in this
family, man and boy, Ballinger and Groome, for fifty-two years, and
you know I'd never desert you. But no doubt those hussies in the
kitchen will, with a lot of others. A lot of stoves have already been set
up in the streets out here and ladies are cookin' their own breakfasts."
"Forgive me, James. I know you will never leave me. And if the others
do we shall get along. Miss Alexina is not a bad cook." And she