econciliation. In his first attempt to
match his wits with a woman's his face became so stony and intense that
Isabel recovered in a bound the serenity she had been struggling for,
and laughed with a gayety that would have deceived any man.

"We are a couple of naughty children," she said, sweetly. "Or maybe
people are not quite civilized so early in the morning. You may smoke,
if you like, and then I shouldn't mind if you came here and let me teach
you to run this launch--it is probably more old-fashioned than any you
have undertaken. But as we no doubt shall make many journeys it is only
fair that you should do half the work."

XIX

When they docked at the foot of Russian Hill, Isabel suggested that
Gwynne should leave his portmanteau with Mr. Clatt, the wharfinger that
lived at the edge of the sea-wall and looked after such launches and
yachts as came his way.

"I want you to stay with me if Lyster and Paula will come too," she
said, hospitably. "They like that sort of thing when they happen to have
a nurse. If they cannot come you will have to go to one of the hotels.
In either case you can send here for your suit-case. You had better take
the Jones Street car--"

"The track is bust," said Mr. Clatt, who was a laconic person.

"Walk along the docks to Polk Street and then south until you find a
car--I think it turns in at Pacific Avenue. The conductor will tell you
where to transfer--"

"Are there no cabs?"

"There are hacks and coupes at the livery-stables, if you care to expend
ten or fifteen dollars for being less comfortable than in the cars.
Remember our hills are little off the perpendicular."

She did not see fit to inform him that his business would not take him
into the hilly district, and watched him wend his way along the noisy,
dirty, evil-smelling docks with some satisfaction. Then she climbed the
steep hill to her house, over the crest. There were many cottages on
this side of Russian Hill and one or two fine residences, but beyond one
cable-car line little or nothing had been done to make life easy for the
inhabitants. It was a bit of pioneer San Francisco. One day, no doubt,
there would be a boulevard at its foot, the rough inhospitable cliff
would be terraced, and set with the country-like villas of people that
appreciated the beauties of the bay and Tamalpais, but at present a
carriage could not mount it, and it made no appeal to the luxurious.

An elderly couple lived in the "B