<SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></SPAN><h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
<h4>ELITHA, FRANCES, AND MR. MILLER VISIT US—MRS. BRUNNER CLAIMS US AS HER
CHILDREN—THE DAGUERREOTYPE.</h4>
<p>The spring-tide of 1852 was bewitchingly beautiful; hills and plain
were covered with wild flowers in countless shapes and hues. They were
so friendly that they sprang up in dainty clusters close to the house
doors, or wherever an inch of ground would give them foothold.</p>
<p>They seemed to call to me, and I looked into their bright faces, threw
myself among them, and hugged as many as my arms could encircle, then
laid my ear close to the ground to catch the low sound of moving leaf
and stem, or of the mysterious ticking in the earth, which foretells
the coming of later plants. Sometimes in my ecstasy, I would shut my
eyes and lie still for a while, then open them inquiringly, to assure
myself that all my favorites were around me still, and that it was not
all a day-dream.</p>
<p>This lovely season mellowed into the Summer which brought a most
unexpected letter from our sister <SPAN name="IAnchorD17"></SPAN><SPAN href="#IndexD17">Frances</SPAN>, who had been living all
these years with the family of Mr. James F. Reed, in San Jose.
Childlike, she wrote:</p>
<blockquote>I am happy, but there has not been a day since I left Sutter's Fort
that I haven't thought of my little sisters and wanted to see them.
<SPAN name="IAnchorM18"></SPAN><SPAN href="#IndexM18">Hiram Miller</SPAN>, our guardian, says he will take me to see you soon,
and Elitha is going too.</blockquote>
<p>After the first few days of wondering, grandma rarely mentioned our
prospective visitors, nor did she show Georgia or me the letter she
herself had received from Elitha, but we re-read ours until we knew it
by heart, and were filled with delightful anticipations. We imagined
that our blue-eyed sister with the golden curls would look as she did
when we parted, and recalled many things that we had said and done
together at the Fort.</p>
<p>I asked grandma what "guardian" meant, and after she explained, I was
not pleased with mine, and dreaded his coming, for I had not forgotten
how Mr. Miller had promised me a lump of sugar that night in the
Sierras, and then did not have it for me after I had walked the
required distance; nor could I quite forgive the severe punishment he
administered next morning because I refused to go forward and cried to
return to mother when he told me that I must walk as far as Georgia and
Frances did that day.</p>
<p>Autumn was well advanced before the lumbering old passenger coach
brought our long-expected guests from the <i>embarcadero</i>, and after the
excitement of the meeting was over, I stealthily scanned each face and
figure. Mr. Miller's stocky form in coarse, dark clothes, his cold gray
eyes, uneven locks, stubby beard, and teeth and lips browned by
tobacco, chewing, were not unfamiliar; but he looked less tired, more
patient, and was a kindlier spoken man than I had remembered.</p>
<p><SPAN name="IAnchorD13"></SPAN><SPAN href="#IndexD13">Elitha</SPAN>, well dressed, tall, slender, and regular of feature, had the
complexion and sparkling black eyes which mark the handsome brunette. I
was more surprised than disappointed, however, to see that the girl of
twelve, who slipped one arm around Georgia and the other around me in a
long, loving embrace, had nothing about her that resembled our little
sister Frances, except her blue eyes and motherly touch.</p>
<p>The week of their visit was joyous indeed. Many courtesies were
extended by friends with whom we had travelled from time to time on the
plains. One never-to-be-forgotten afternoon was spent with the Boggs
family at their beautiful home amid orchard and vineyard near the
foothills.</p>
<p>On Sunday, the bell of the South Methodist Church called us to service.
In those days, the men occupied the benches on one side of the
building, and the women and children on the other; and I noticed that
several of the young men found difficulty in keeping their eyes from
straying in our direction, and after service, more than one came to
inquire after grandma's health.</p>
<p>Mr. Miller passed so little time in our company that I remember only
his arrival and his one serious talk with grandma, when he asked her
the amount due her on account of the trouble and expense we two
children had been since she had taken us in charge. She told him
significantly that there was nothing to pay, because we were her
children, and that she was abundantly able to take care of us. In
proof, she handed him a daguerreotype taken the previous year.</p>
<p>It pictured herself comfortably seated, and one of us standing at
either side with an elbow resting upon her shoulder, and a chubby face
leaning against the uplifted hand. She was arrayed in her best cap,
handsome embroidered black satin dress and apron, lace sleeve ruffs,
kerchief, watch and chain. We were twin-like in lace-trimmed dresses of
light blue dimity, striped with a tan-colored vine, blue sashes and
hair ribbons; and each held a bunch of flowers in her hand. It was a
costly trinket, in a case inlaid with pink roses, in mother of pearl,
and she was very proud of it.</p>
<p>Grandma's answer to Mr. Miller was a death-knell to Elitha's hopes and
plans in our behalf. Her little daughter had been dead more than a
year. <SPAN name="IAnchorD57"></SPAN><SPAN href="#IndexD57">Sister Leanna</SPAN> had recently married and gone to a home of her own,
and the previous week the place made vacant by the marriage had been
given to Frances, with the ready approval of Hiram Miller and Mr. and
Mrs. Reed. She had now come to Sonoma hoping that if Mr. Miller should
pay grandma for the care we had been to her, she would consent to give
us up in order that we four sisters might be reunited in one home.
Elitha now foresaw that such a suggestion would not only result in
failure, but arouse grandma's antagonism, and cut off future
communication between us.</p>
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