Longer, and I would be lonely
and homesick.
It was a lovely day. The coast road to San Diego runs through orange
groves for miles, and the perfume of the blossoms hung about us till we
came to the sea, where a salt breeze blew away the heavy sweetness. I
lunched on the sand and watched the waves for an hour. There, at least,
are endless re-enforcements! As fast as the front ranks break more come
always to fill their places.
I felt no hurry, as the Smiling Hill-Top is some fifteen miles nearer
Pasadena than San Diego--an easy day's run--and I had no engagements,
but at last my impatience to see how much our garden had grown started
me once more on my way, and we arrived at our wicket gate in the late
afternoon. There were twenty-seven keys on the ring the real-estate
agent gave me--twenty more than caused so much trouble at Baldpate--but
none fitted, so I had the chauffeur lift the gate bodily from its hinges
and I was at home!
In California things grow riotously. Grandparents who haven't seen their
grandsons for years, and find that they have shot up from toddling
babies to tall youths, must feel as I did when I saw the vines and
shrubs, especially the banana trees planted only six months before! The
lawn over which I had positively wept lay innocent and green--almost
English in its freshness.
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