It was the first time any question had been asked of her more than the question if she had heard, and if he was well.

“About one hundred days, I think,” said Grace; “that is,” she added, “if I go and find him and bring him home.”

Next day Grace made all her arrangements and was ready to leave early on the following morning.  Parting with her mother was her great sorrow, but the mother approved of her going, and the good-byes were not so sad as though they did not expect to be soon again reunited.

They made the voyage to New York in nine days.  Remaining one day in that city, they started West; stopped one day in Chicago, and reached San Francisco seventeen days from Liverpool.

Hobart had been in San Francisco before, and wanted to stop at the Lick House, but Grace insisted that her friends liked the Occidental best; so they went to the Occidental.

Four days after reaching San Francisco, the Hobarts sailed for Australia.  They urged Grace to accompany them, but she declined, saying, with a smile, that she believed for the present she preferred the solid earth to the unstable sea.  She saw her friends aboard the steamer; then returning to the hotel, sent for the manager, Major H.; explained that she expected her husband by the first steamer from Australia; that he did not expect to find her; so she wished to surprise him, and desired the finest apartments in the hotel, including a private dining-room; and requested that when it was known that the ship was coming up the harbor, the rooms should be elaborately dressed with flowers.  She also stipulated that her husband, on his coming, should be conducted to his apartments without any knowledge that any one was waiting for him.

Major H., captivated by the little English lady, entered into the full spirit of the programme and promised that he would personally attend to the matter.

Grace was transferred to the new rooms, and thereafter had her meals served in her own dining-room.

Three days later, about one p.m., a message came that the Australian steamer had at noon been sighted outside the Heads, and was then entering the Golden Gate.

The flowers were forthcoming; the apartments were swiftly decorated; then Grace, with the utmost painstaking, robed herself in her richest costume and seated herself in the private dining-room, with the sliding doors slightly ajar so that she could look through into the parlor of the suite without being seen.

The suspense was fearful to her for half an hour.  Would he really come?  Separating in London, and he traveling east, would she by coming west find him?  Would he be well?  Had he really escaped the African fever and all the dangers that lurked in the weary stretches of treacherous billows?

Those were a few of the questions she was asking herself, when, in the hall, a well-known voice rang out which made her heart bound.  It was saying:  “There must be an oversight somewhere.  I surely ought to have had some letters awaiting me.”