“And we must talk!” Barbara added coaxingly.  “Is California lovely?”

“Oh—­” Julia raised her brows, with her grave smile.  “Home is home, Bab.”

“And Mother looks well?”

“Your mother looks very well.  But when she and Janey come on in January you’ll see for yourself.  Janey’s so pretty; I wish she’d marry, but she never sees any one but Rich!  Rich is simply adorable; he had Con and her husband and little girl with him this summer.  Con’s getting very fat—­she’s great fun!  And Ted’s very much improved, Bab, very much more gentle and sweet.  She told me about Bob Carleton’s death, poor fellow!  She went to see him and took George, and do you know, I don’t think Ted will marry again, although she’s handsomer than ever!”

“And Sally’s the perfect celebrity’s wife?” Barbara asked, with a smile.

“Sally?  But I wrote you that,” Julia laughed.  “Yes, Keith was giving a concert in Philadelphia when we went through at Easter.  So Jim and I made a special trip down to hear it, and, my dear!  The hall was packed, the women went simply crazy over him, and he’s really quite poetical looking, long hair and all that.  And Sally——­I saw her at the hotel the next morning, and such a manner!  Protecting the privacy of the genius, don’t you know, and seeing reporters, and answering requests for autographs, and declining invitations, here, there, and everywhere!  I think she has more fun than Keith does!  He’s quite helpless without her; won’t see a manager or answer a note, or even order a luncheon!  ‘Sally,’ he says, handing her a card, ’what do I like?  Tell them not to ask me!’ He worships her, and, of course, she worships him; she even said to me that it was lucky there were no children—­ Keith hated children!”

“Funny life!” Barbara mused, half laughing.  “And your people are well, Ju?” “Splendidly,” Julia smiled.  “Mama looks just the same; she was simply wild about our Georgie—­saw him nearly every day, for if I couldn’t go I sent nurse with him.  My cousin Marguerite is dead, you know, and her husband is really a very clever fellow, a tailor, making lots of money.  He and the three children have come to live with Aunt May; Regina manages the whole crowd; it’s really the happiest sort of a home!  Anna had beautiful times there; she remembered it all, and Aunt May and Mama nearly spoiled her!”

“You couldn’t spoil her,” Barbara said affectionately.  “She is really the dearest and most precious!  Are you going to let La Franz paint her?”

“No.”  Julia’s motherly pride showed only in a sudden brightness in her blue eyes.  “And I hope no one will tell her that he asked!  Even at ten, Bab, they are quite sufficiently aware of admiration.  She had on a sort of greeny-yallery velvet gown the day we met him, and really she was quite toothsome, if you ask an unprejudiced observer.  But Jim and I were wondering if it’s wise to make her quite so picturesque!”