All The Romance Which Lived And Will Ever Live In Me Was Awake To
The Story, And The Hours Passed All Too Quickly.
But a cry from my little boy in the near-by deck stateroom
recalled me to the realities of life and I said good-night,
having spent one of the most delightful evenings I ever remember.
Mr. Reade wears now a star on his shoulder, and well earned it
is, too. I wonder if he has forgotten how he helped to bind up my
little boy's finger which had been broken in an accident on the
train from San Francisco to Los Angeles? or how he procured a
surgeon for me on our arrival there, and got a comfortable room
for us at the hotel? or how he took us to drive (with an older
lady for a chaperon), or how he kindly cared for us until we were
safely on the boat that evening? If I had ever thought chivalry
dead, I learned then that I had been mistaken.
San Diego charmed me, as we steamed, the next morning, into its
shining bay. But as our boat was two hours late and the
stage-coach was waiting, I had to decline Mr. Reade's enchanting
offers to drive us around the beautiful place, to show me the
fine beaches, and his quarters, and all other points of interest
in this old town of Southern California.
Arizona, not San Diego, was my destination, so we took a hasty
breakfast at the hotel and boarded the stage, which, filled with
passengers, was waiting before the door.
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