Not for a moment did Travis lose her temper with him.

But "very well," she declared at length, "the next time she saw that little Miner girl she would tell her that he had said she was his beau-heart.
NOW would he hold still while she brushed his hair ?" At a few minutes before eleven Travis and her father went to church.
They were Episcopalians, and for time out of mind had rented a half-pew in the church of their denomination on California Street, not far from Chinatown.

By noon the family reassembled at dinner-table, where Mr.
Bessemer ate his chicken-heart--after Travis had thrice reminded him of it--and expressed himself as to the sermon and the minister's theology: sometimes to his daughter and sometimes to himself.
After dinner Howard and Snooky foregathered in the nursery with their beloved lead soldiers; Travis went to her room to write letters; and Mr.Bessemer sat in the bay window of the dining-room reading the paper from end to end.
At five Travis bestirred herself.

It was Victorine's afternoon out.
Travis set the table, spreading a cover of blue denim edged with white braid, which showed off the silver and the set of delft--her great and never-ending joy--to great effect.

Then she tied her apron about her, and went into the kitchen to make the mayonnaise dressing for the potato salad, to slice the ham, and to help the cook (a most inefficient Irish person, taken on only for that month during the absence of the family's beloved and venerated Sing Wo) in the matter of preparing the Sunday evening tea.
Tea was had at half-past five.