"
His eyes lit up. "Ah, San Mateo, Alta, Atherton, Menlo Park. There you have
a real landed aristocracy. The Burlingame set must realize that they would
be nobodies for all their wealth if they could not call at all those old
communities down the Peninsula."
"Not so very many of them do. But I see you have no false values. You. must
go down with us some Sunday to Alta. I am sure you would like my oldest
daughter. She is very smart, as they call it now, but distinctly of the old
regime."
"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.
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