My undertaking was not so large or elaborate as hers, and when I finished, she still had quite a piece to do, and was out of floss.  She had pin-pricked from an embroidered silk shawl on to strips of white paper, the outline of a vine representing foliage, buds, and blossoms; then basted the paper in place around the skirt.  The colors were shaded green and pink.  Unable to get the floss for the blossoms, she had bought narrow pink silk braid and outlined each rose and bud, then embroidered the foliage in green.  Some might have thought it a trifle gaudy, but to me it seemed beautiful, and I was proud of her handiwork.

I washed, starched, and ironed the pillow-slips while grandma was from home, and they did look well, for I had taken great pains in doing my work.  Several days before the appointed time, grandma, in great good humor, showed us the dresses she had been hiding from us; and then and there, like three children unable to keep their secrets longer, we exchanged gifts, and were as pleased as if we had waited until Christmas morning.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE WIDOW STEIN AND LITTLE JOHNNIE—­“DAUGHTERS OF A SAINTED MOTHER”—­ESTRANGEMENT AND DESOLATION—­A RESOLUTION AND A VOW—­MY PEOPLE ARRIVE AND PLAN TO BEAR ME AWAY.

On the first of September, 1855, a widow, whom I shall call Stein, and her little son Johnnie, came to visit grandma.  She considered herself a friend by reason of the fact that she and her five children had been hospitably entertained in our home two years earlier, upon their arrival in California.  For grandpa in particular she professed a high regard, because her husband had been his bartender, and as such had earned money enough to bring his family from Europe, and also to pay for the farm which had come to her at his death.

Mother and son felt quite at home, and in humor to enjoy their self-appointed stay of two weeks.  Despite her restless eye and sinister smile, she could be affable; and although, at first, I felt an indescribable misgiving in her presence, it wore away, and I often amused Johnnie while she and grandma talked.

As if to hasten events, Mrs. Bergwald had sent for Georgia almost at the beginning of the visit of the Steins; and after her departure, Mrs. Stein insisted on helping me with the chores, and then on my sitting with her during grandma’s busiest hour.

She seemed deeply interested in California’s early history, and when I would stop talking, she would ply me with questions.  So I told her how poor everybody was before the discovery of gold; how mothers would send their boys to grandma’s early morning fire for live coals, because they had no matches or tinder boxes; how neighbors brought their coffee and spices to grind in her mills; how the women gathered in the afternoons under her great oak tree, to talk, sew, and eagerly listen to the reading of extracts from letters and papers that had come from friends