It's settled _only_ about to-day, you know!
Yes. Ten o'clock will suit me."
She hummed a dance-tune while Kate dressed her. And the room was still
sweet with the fragrance of that strange perfume, "Parfait d'Amour made
from California flowers."
She sat beside Nick in the yellow car, Kate (and black Timmy in a basket)
behind with the sharp-nosed youth whom Hilliard called his "assistant."
There was also luggage--enough to last for a few days, the rest had been
sent on by train to San Francisco.
Nick enjoyed hearing Angela exclaim, "This is like Algeciras!" "That's
like the Italian Riviera!" as the car ran on. It seemed wonderful that she
should have seen all the most beautiful places in Europe, that she should
hold their pictures in her mind now, comparing them with these new ones,
yet that her heart should be in the New World--_his_ world.
Near Santa Barbara the mountains came crowding down to the sea, as at
Mentone; and on the horizon floated islands, mysterious as the mirage of
Corsica seen from the Italian shore at sunrise. Over there, Nick told her,
was a grotto, painted in many lovely colours; and boats dived into it on
the crest of a wave. He had not heard of the Blue Grotto at Capri, but she
described it; and so they went on, each with something to tell that the
other did not know.
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