“Well, I hoped for a politer, more sympathetic reception—” Lauretta complained, and then shrugged and smiled at her sister. “It is my romantic nature. I believe everyone, you see, especially men—and especially those who say I am beautiful. I can’t think what I shall do when I grow old.” She shuddered. “Wretched thought.”

Sarah stood back from her and marveled. “Three times a wife and never married at all!”

“Ah well,” Lauretta said as if she were accepting a compliment, “I dare say there are women who’ve had duller lives.”

“I dare say there are,” Sarah agreed. “What followed the dramatic scene in the hotel sitting room?”

“Half of San Francisco was laughing at me while the other half pitied and despised me. The newly arrived Mrs. Tilly moved into rooms at the hotel, and Robb ran back and forth between us for half a day, until an arrangement was made. The ‘lawful’ Mrs. Tilly insisted that I leave San Francisco, and I confess I had little desire to remain after what had happened. So I agreed to go on the very first clipper ship for the East Coast, with my passage paid, of course, and a little something besides.”

Sarah shook her head and smiled. “As you say—you are resilient.”

“I hate vulgarity, and I have learned the right time to leave a party. I have my share of vanity, but only the rich can afford pride. The rest of us must scramble to catch whatever moonbeams we may.”

“From the richness of your gown it’s more than moonbeams you caught.”

Lauretta took her sister’s hand and sat down on the chaise again, drawing Sarah down beside her. “But for you life hasn’t been so romantic, has it?”

Sarah said carefully, “I wouldn’t have wanted it to be more than it has been.”

“That is because you are good.” Lauretta sighed. “And I am not. But that’s my nature. How is Leon?”

“He’s well. Uncle Felix died.”

“Oh?”

“They all came here to live after our big trouble. I wrote you—the warehouse fire in town—everything.”

Lauretta looked vague. “Oh yes. You did write me about that, I believe. Leon’s uncle and aunt, and our Aunt Penelope.”

“Without Aunt Pea we might have lost Beulah Land.”

“As bad as that, was it?”

“Everything is all right now,” Sarah assured her to change the tack the conversation had taken, seeing that Lauretta remembered and cared nothing about what had happened.

“Oh, I’m glad. I hate hardship. But with so many, do you have room for me?”

“Of course.”

“You’re good.” She squeezed Sarah’s hand. “And I’m tired. I’d like to stay with you a little while and get my breath.”

“Do you have plans for the future?” Sarah said.