by Bret Harte
sameinharmonious extravagance of furniture, and everywhere the same troubledacceptance of it by the inmates, or the same sense of temporary andrestricted tenancy. Dresses were hung over cheval glasses; clothes piledup on chairs to avoid the use of doubtful and over ornamented wardrobes,and in some cases more practical guests had apparently encamped in acorner of their apartment. A gentleman from Siskyou--sole proprietor ofa mill patent now being considered by Maecenas--had confined himself toa rocking-chair and clothes-horse as being trustworthy and familiar; abolder spirit from Yreka--in treaty for capital to start an independentjournal devoted to Maecenas's interests--had got a good deal out of, andindeed all he had INTO, a Louis XVI. armoire; while a young painter fromSacramento had simply retired into his adjoining bath-room, leaving theglories of his bedroom untarnished. Suddenly he paused.
He had turned into a smaller passage in order to make a shorter cutthrough one of the deserted suites of apartments that should bring himto that part of the building where he designed to make his projectedimprovement, when his feet were arrested on the threshold of asitting-room. Although it contained the same decoration and furnitureas the other rooms, it looked totally different! It was tasteful,luxurious, comfortable, and habitable. The furniture seemed to havefallen into harmonious position; even the staring decorations of thewalls and ceiling were toned down by sprays of laurel and red-stainedmanzanito boughs with their berries, apparently fresh plucked from thenear canyon. But he was more unexpectedly impressed to see that the roomwas at that moment occupied by a tall, handsome girl, who had pausedto take breath, with her hand still on the heavy centre-table she wasmoving. Standing there, graceful, glowing, and animated, she looked theliving genius of the recreated apartment.
CHAPTER II
Mr. Rushbrook glanced rapidly at his unknown guest. "Excuse me," hesaid, with respectful business brevity, "but I thought every one wasout," and he stepped backward quickly.
"I've only just come," she said without embarrassment, "and would youmind, as you ARE here, giving me a lift with this table?"
"Certainly," replied Rushbrook, and under the young girl's direction themillionaire moved the table to one side.
During the operation he was trying to determine which of hisunrecognized guests the fair occupant was. Possibly one of the Leytonparty, that James had spoken of as impending.
"Then you have changed all the furniture, and put up these things?" heasked, pointing to the laurel.
"Yes, the room was really something TOO awful. It looks better now,don't you think?"
"A hundred per cent.," said Rushbrook, promptly. "Look here, I'll tellyou what you've done. You've set the furniture TO WORK! It was simplylying still--with no return to anybody on the investment."
The young girl opened her gray eyes at this, and then smiled. Theintruder seemed to be characteristic of California. As for Rushbrook, heregretted that he did not know her better, he would at once have askedher to rearrange all the rooms, and have managed in some way liberallyto reward her for it. A girl like that had no nonsense about her.
"Yes," she said, "I wonder Mr. Rushbrook don't look at it in that way.It is a shame that all these pretty things--and you know they are reallygood and valuable--shouldn't show what they are. But I suppose everybodyhere accepts the fact that this man simply buys them because they arevaluable, and nobody interferes, and is content to humor him, laugh athim, and feel superior. It don't strike me as quite fair, does it you?"
Rushbrook was pleased. Without the vanity that would be either annoyedat this revelation of his reputation, or gratified at her defense of it,he was simply glad to discover that she had not recognized him as herhost, and could continue the conversation unreservedly. "Have youseen the ladies' boudoir?" he asked. "You know, the room fitted withknick-knacks and pretty things--some of 'em bought from old collectionsin Europe, by fellows who knew what they were but perhaps," he added,looking into her eyes for the first time, "didn't know exactly whatladies cared for."
"I merely glanced in there when I first came, for there was such a queerlot of women--I'm told he isn't very particular in that way--that Ididn't stay."
"And you didn't think THEY might be just as valuable and good as some ofthe furniture, if they could have been pulled around and put into shape,or set in a corner, eh?"
The young girl smiled; she thought her fellow-guest rather amusing, nonethe less so, perhaps, for catching up her own ideas, but neverthelessshe slightly shrugged her shoulders with that hopeless skepticism whichwomen reserve for their own sex. "Some of them looked as if they hadbeen pulled around, as you say, and hadn't been improved by it."
"There's no one there now," said Rushbrook, with practical directness;"come and take a look at it." She complied without hesitation, walkingby his side, tall, easy, and self-possessed, apparently acceptingwithout self-consciousness his half paternal, half comrade-likeinformality. The boudoir was a large room, repeating on a bigger scalethe incongruousness and ill fitting splendor of the others. When shehad of her own accord recognized and pointed out the more admirablearticles, he said, gravely looking at his watch, "We've just about sevenminutes yet; if you'd like to pull and haul these things around, I'llhelp you."
The young girl smiled. "I'm quite content with what I've done in my ownroom, where I have no one's taste to consult but my own. I hardly knowhow Mr. Rushbrook, or his lady friends, might like my operating here."Then recognizing with feminine tact the snub that might seem implied inher refusal, she said quickly, "Tell me something about our host--butfirst look! isn't that pretty?"
She had stopped before the window that looked upon the dim blue abyss ofthe canyon, and was leaning out to gaze upon it. Rushbrook joined her.
"There isn't much to be changed down THERE, is there?" he said, halfinterrogatively.
"No, not unless Mr. Rushbrook took it into his head to roof it in, andsomebody was ready with a contract to do it. But what do you know ofhim? Remember, I'm quite a stranger here."
"You came with Charley Leyton?"
"With MRS. Leyton's party," said the young girl, with a half-smilingemphasis. "But it seems that we don't know whether Mr. Rushbrook wantsus here or not till he comes. And the drollest thing about it is thatthey're all so perfectly frank in saying so."
"Charley and he are old friends, and you'll do well to trust to theirjudgment."
This was hardly the kind of response that the handsome and cleversociety girl before him had been in the habit of receiving, but itamused her. Her fellow-guest was decidedly original. But he hadn'ttold her about Rushbrook, and it struck her that his opinion would beindependent, at least. She reminded him of it.
"Look here," said Rushbrook, "you'll meet a man here to-night--or he'llbe sure to meet YOU--who'll tell you all about Rushbrook. He's a smartchap, knows everybody and talks well. His name is Jack Somers; he isa great ladies' man. He can talk to you about these sort of things,too,"--indicating the furniture with a half tolerant, half contemptuousgesture, that struck her as inconsistent with what seemed to be hisprevious interest,--"just as well as he can talk of people. Been inEurope, too."
The young girl's eye brightened with a quick vivacity at the name, but amoment after became reflective and slightly embarrassed. "I know him--Imet him at Mr. Leyton's. He has already talked of Mr. Rushbrook, but,"she added, avoiding any conclusion, with a pretty pout, "I'd liketo have the opinion of others. Yours, now, I fancy would be quiteindependent."
"You stick to what Jack Somers has said, good or bad, and you won'tbe far wrong," he said assuringly. He stopped; his quick ear had heardapproaching voices; he returned to her and held out his hand. As itseemed to her that in California everybody shook hands with everybodyelse on the slightest occasions, sometimes to save further conversation,she gave him her own. He shook it, less forcibly than she had feared,and abruptly left her. For a moment she was piqued at this superior andsomewhat brusque way of ignoring her request, but reflecting that itmight be the awkwardness of an untrained man, she dismissed it from hermind. The voices of h
er friends in the already resounding passages alsorecalled her to the fact that she had been wandering about the housewith a stranger, and she rejoined them a little self-consciously.
"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Leyton, gayly, "it seems we are to stay.Leyton says Rushbrook won't hear of our going."
"Does that mean that your husband takes the whole opera troupe over toyour house in exchange?"
"Don't be satirical, but congratulate yourself on your opportunity ofseeing an awfully funny gathering. I wouldn't have you miss