The Squatter and the Don. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton
make us cry if you talk like that,” said Mrs. Darrell. “Alice has nearly cried her eyes out already.”
“Never mind, our lease of this place won't be out for two years yet, and we can come back if the other don't suit,” said Clarence encouragingly.
Two days after, the Darrells left Alameda on their way to San Diego, stopping for a couple of days only at San Francisco. On board the steamer Clarence met Mr. Alfred Holman, who had accompanied his daughters and now placed them under Clarence's care—“According to instructions from Miss Mercedes”—Mr. Holman added, making Clarence's blood rush to his head, as it always did whenever that sweetest of all names was mentioned in his presence. “Tell the Alamares I shall be down soon. I am only waiting for Tom Scott to escort me.” So saying, Mr. Holman laughed and hurriedly kissing his daughters, ran down the gang plank.
Clarence lost no time in presenting the Misses Holman to his mother, sisters and brothers, all of whom received them with politeness, though with different degrees of warmth, according to the natural share of affability or that diffidence which half of Darrell's children inherited from him, especially the two eldest daughters. The amiability of Alice and her mother's gentle, winning ways, however, soon dispelled the damp chill that Jane and Lucy's reserve generally managed to throw over strangers, thus before the steamer got under way, all were conversing and laughing like old friends, discussing things in general and people in particular.
“I think you have made a conquest,” said Amelia Holman to Alice. “Or perhaps two, for I saw a little yellow haired man with a very red neck, come this way and look at you. Then a loose jointed fellow who walks as if his feet are too heavy to lift and just drags them, follows, and he too looks at you beseechingly.”
“Mercy! I don't want to be so fascinating as all that might indicate,” said Alice, laughing, and a little man gesticulating, and a big man with shuffling gait and hands in the pockets of his pantaloons, listening wearily, were seen coming.
“I know who they are,” said Clarence. “The little one is married, so Alice can rest her hopes on the big footed one only.”
“Gracious, how very repulsive the small one is,” Corina exclaimed.
“Who are they?” Mrs. Darrell asked when they had turned to go back.
“The large fellow is Dick Mason, brother-in-law of the little red-skinned one, who told me his name is Peter Roper, and he is a lawyer bound for San Diego to practice law there (no matter by what means), he says. He gave me this information himself when I went to check our baggage. He introduced himself and his brother Dick on the strength of his being acquainted with father. He also asked permission to present his wife, to my mother and sisters.”
“Did you give that permission?” asked Jane, sternly.
“I did, of course; but if his skin is not so thick as it is red he will never avail himself of it. I noticed he had been drinking, so I told him that at present my mother and sisters wished to converse alone with the Misses Holman, of whom we are the escort, but that before we reached San Diego I thought there might be an opportunity to present his wife, perhaps.”
“What did he say to that?” Alice asked.
“He grinned and said: ‘Pretty large escort, ain't it? About a dozen people.’ Yes, I said, but the young ladies are very nice, and require a great deal of attention. ‘Do they?’ said he, and his yellow eyes leered, and sticking his tongue to one side of his mouth, made his cheek bulge out; he then raised his shoulders and lifted his elbows, as if he would have flown aloft had his arms been wings.”
“How impertinent and vulgar,” Jane exclaimed.
“He is of the genus hoodlum. A bird aboriginal of the San Francisco sand dunes, resembling the peacock,” said Corina Holman.
“What did you do when he made those grimaces?” Alice asked.
“Nothing. I looked at him as if I expected nothing else, considering that it must be natural to him to act like a monkey. My impassibility rather disconcerted him, as evidently he expected me to consider him very funny, and laugh at his droll antics. He added, ‘Any time will do, as my wife is not over-anxious to make acquaintances generally.’ So saying, he threw back the lappels of his coat, putting his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, and strutted off, leaving me to guess whether he was making fun of his wife's exclusiveness or ours. He turned back soon, though, and said, ‘We'll call it square, if you come and take a drink.’ When I declined that also, he went off again, and this time angry in good earnest.”
“I hope he will remain so, and not come near you again,” said Jane.
Vain wish! When the boat stopped at Santa Barbara, Roper took that opportunity to present his wife to Mrs. Darrell on the strength of his acquaintance with her husband. He grinned and suppressed a giggle, thinking it was very funny to claim friendly relations with Darrell, whom he had never seen. It was a matter of perfect indifference to him that Mrs. Darrell would find out his falsehood afterward. All that he wanted now was to become acquainted with the Darrell and Holman ladies. In this he succeeded, and what is more, succeeded according to his principles, in utter disregard of truth or self-respect. He trusted to his inventive genius to explain how he came to imagine he was acquainted with Mr. Darrell.
When the boat arrived at San Diego, Gabriel and Elvira came to the wharf to meet the Misses Holman. They thanked Clarence for the excellent care he had taken of them, and Elvira asked him to present her to his mother and sisters. This was done with pleasure, and he was glad to see that Elvira and Gabriel seemed pleased with his family.
The Holmans would remain in town for a couple of days at a friend's house, after that they would go to the Alamar rancho to make their visit there. Elvira and Gabriel would remain with them to be their escort. Such was Elvira's message home sent with Clarence.
Mr. Darrell came on board to meet his family, but Mr. Peter Roper was too intently occupied with his baggage to renew his acquaintance; in fact, he rather hurried off the boat to avoid him.
The Darrells arrived at the hotel about the same time, but Peter was then particularly engaged making important inquiries from one of the hotel clerks.
He was saying: “So, you think there is no lawyer of any prominence; not one that might be called a leading lawyer?”
“I didn't say that; I only said I don't know of any.”
“Exactly. You hear, though, who has the largest practice?”
“If you call a large practice to get people into trouble by spying about people's business and getting commercial agencies (I believe that is what he calls to spy and pry into people's affairs), then old Hornblower is the leading lawyer, for he leads people into long law suits always, and bleeds them and makes money.”
“That's the man for me,” said Roper, showing his purple gums in a broad grin, and the orange and green of his eyes expanding with feline instincts.
Romeo Hancock had been engaged by Clarence before leaving, to take charge of hauling their effects to the rancho. Romeo, therefore, was there with three large wagons, and two vaqueros to convey Mrs. Darrell's pretty Jersey cows. But Clarence had to see that everything started in good order before he joined his family at the hotel.
“I brought the Concord wagon for the women folks and the light spring wagon for the boys and Tisha,” said Mr. Darrell. “The Concord holds six people well, and at a pinch, eight. The light wagon the same; so you don't have to have any extra conveyances.”
“No, father, I have not hired any,” Clarence replied, and exchanging a look with his brothers, said that everything was ready to start, and all walked down stairs.
In front of the ladies' entrance was a very handsome carriage which Mrs. Darrell and her daughters had admired very much on board the steamer; next to it was a pretty phæton which they also had admired, and behind the phæton was Mr. Darrell's Concord. He frowned and said:
“There was no use in hiring those carriages, Clarence.”
“Count