telephone King and perhaps dine with him--the girls might be
amusing. Anyway, Cherry was happy and was having her own way, and
he had three months in which to try having his own again.

Alix met her sister at the ferry in San Francisco on a soft May
morning. She was an oddly developed Alix, trim and tall, prettily
gowned and veiled, laughing and crying with joy at seeing Cherry
again. Peter, she explained between kisses, had had to go to Los
Angeles three days ago, had been expected home last night, and was
not even aware yet that Cherry was definitely arriving.

"Of course he knew that you were coming, but not exactly when,"
Alix said, as she guided the newcomer along the familiar ferry
place on to the big bay steamer for Mill Valley. Cherry drew back
to exclaim, to marvel, to exult, at all the well-remembered sights
and sounds and smells.

"Oh, Alix--Market Street!" she exclaimed. "And that smell of
leather tanning, and that smell of bay water and of coffee! And
look--that's a cable-car!"

"We'll come over to San Francisco soon, and you'll see the new
hotels," Alix promised when they were seated on the upper deck,
with the blue waters of the bay moving softly past them. Cherry's
happy eyes followed a wheeling gull; she felt as if the world was
suddenly sunshiny and simple and glorious again. "But now, I
thought the best thing was to get you home," Alix went on, "and
get you rested."

"Oh, Sis, that's what I want!" Cherry answered Her lip trembled,