The Avalanche - Page 9/95

When he met her eyes some twenty minutes later, he dismissed the

impression of subtlety, for their black depths were quick with an eager

wonder and curiosity. Later they grew wistful, and he guessed that she

knew none of these smart folk, down, like himself, for the tournament;

people who were chattering from table to table like a large family. That

some of his girl acquaintances were interested in the young stranger he

inferred from speculative and appraising eyes that were turned upon her

from time to time.

Price, with some irony, wondered at their curiosity. The San Francisco

girl, he had discovered, possessed an extra sense all her own. There was

no lofty indifference about her. She had the worth-while stranger

detected and tabulated and his or her social destiny settled before the

Eastern train had disgorged its contents at the Oakland mole. And even

the immense florid mother of this lovely girl, with her own masses of

snow white hair dressed in a manner becoming her age, and a severe gown

of black Chantilly net, relieved by the merest trifle of jet, looked the

reverse of the nondescript tourist. The girl wore white embroidered silk

muslin and a thin gold chain with a small ruby pendant. She was rather

above the average height, although not as tall as her mother, and if she

were as thin as fashion commanded, her bones were so small that her neck

and arms looked almost plump. Her expressive eyes were as black as her

hair, and her only large feature. Her skin was of a quite remarkably pink

whiteness, although there was a pink color in her lips and cheeks. The

older men stared at her more persistently than the younger ones, who

liked their own sort and not girls who looked as if they might be "booky"

and "spring things on a fellow."

There was a ball in the evening and once more mother and daughter sat

apart, while the flower of San Francisco--an inclusive term for the

select circles of Menlo Park, Atherton, Burlingame, San Mateo, far San

Rafael and Belvedere--romped as one great family. Newport, Ruyler

reflected for the twentieth time, did it no better. To the stranger

peering through the magic bars they were now as insensible as befitted

their code. These two people knew nobody and that was the end of it.

IV

But Price noted that now the girl's eyes were merely wistful, and once or

twice he saw them fill with tears. As three of the dowagers merely

sniffed when he sought possible information, he finally had recourse to

the manager of the hotel, D.V. Bimmer. They were a Madame and

Mademoiselle Delano from Rouen, and had been at the hotel for a

fortnight, not seeming to mind its comparative emptiness, but enjoying

the sea bathing and the drives. The girl rode, and went out every morning

with a groom.