Mr. Carr, however, made up for his daughters’ want of sympathy with metropolitan life.  To their astonishment, he not only plunged into the fashionable gayeties and amusements of the town, but in dress and manner assumed the role of a leader of society.  The invariable answer to their half-humorous comment was the necessities of the mine, and the policy of frequenting the company of capitalists, to enlist their support and confidence.  There was something in this so unlike their father, that what at any other time they would have hailed as a relief to his habitual abstraction now half alarmed them.  Yet he was not dissipated—­he did not drink nor gamble.  There certainly did not seem any harm in his frequenting the society of ladies, with a gallantry that appeared to be forced and a pleasure that to their critical eyes was certainly apocryphal.  He did not drag his daughters into the mixed society of that period; he did not press upon them the company of those he most frequented, and whose accepted position in that little world of fashion was considered equal to their own.  When Jessie strongly objected to the pronounced manners of a certain widow, whose actual present wealth and pecuniary influence condoned for a more uncertain prehistoric past, Mr. Carr did not urge a further acquaintance.  “As long as you’re not thinking of marrying again, papa,” Jessie had said finally, “I don’t see the necessity of our knowing her.”  “But suppose I were,” had replied Mr. Carr with affected humor.  “Then you certainly wouldn’t care for any one like her,” his daughter had responded triumphantly.  Mr. Carr smiled, and dropped the subject, but it is probable that his daughters’ want of sympathy with his acquaintances did not in the least interfere with his social prestige.  A gentleman in all his relations and under all circumstances, even his cold scientific abstraction was provocative; rich men envied his lofty ignorance of the smaller details of money-making, even while they mistrusted his judgment.  A man still well preserved, and free from weakening vices, he was a dangerous rival to younger and faster San Francisco, in the eyes of the sex, who knew how to value a repose they did not themselves possess.

Suddenly Mr. Carr announced his intention of proceeding to Sacramento, on further business of the mine, leaving his two daughters in the family of a wealthy friend until he should return for them.  He opposed their ready suggestion to return to Devil’s Ford with a new and unnecessary inflexibility:  he even met their compromise to accompany him to Sacramento with equal decision.

“You will be only in my way,” he said curtly.  “Enjoy yourselves here while you can.”