"How do you know Victoriano is coming? He went out riding," she said, evading the question of forgiveness, and for the sake of making some reply that would hide her confusion.

"Yes, but I met him and he returned with me. He has gone to look for Senor Alamar, I came to see him on business," said the respectful young man, still on his knees.

"Do you know my father?"

"Only very slightly." They were silent. He added: "I met him a few days ago when he had that meeting with the squatters."

"Were you at the meeting?" said she, avoiding his gaze.

"Yes," he said, watching her beautiful face. What would she think of him, believing him a _Squatter_, one who came to take land that did not belong to him? How he wished that she would look up, that he might see her lovely eyes again, for if to her his eyes seemed so glorious, to him hers fascinated, conquered, with a power that he never thought could exist in any human being. Trembling, he felt that he was madly in love with her. Yes, already in love. Love at first sight, surely. But if it killed him, no matter, he would love her to the last instant of his life.

Voices were heard approaching through the hall. He stood up and walked towards the door. Senor Alamar came forward and shook hands with him.

Victoriano explained the reason of his delay being, that he had to look for his father all over the house, and at last found him in the furthest "_corral_" looking at some new colts just brought in.

"I am glad that Mercedes came to converse with you," said Victoriano.

"I did not come to converse. I did not know that the gentleman was here.

I came by accident," she hastened to reply. "I was trying to catch Milord when I stumbled and would have fallen, had not this gentleman prevented it." So saying, she blushed anew; her blushes being immediately reflected on Clarence's forehead, made them both look like a couple of culprits.

"I fear the lady's foot is hurt," said he.

"Is it?" exclaimed Don Mariano, going towards Mercedes. "Does it pain you baby?"

"Yes papa, a little. It burns me. Do you think it would be bad for me to walk to my room?"

"Of course it would," Clarence said, and blushed redder yet at his temerity.

"Can you stand on your foot?" Victoriano asked.

"I don't know."

"Don't try. I'll carry you to your room," said her father.

"Women have no business to have such small feet. They are always stumbling and can't walk worth a cent," said Victoriano, going to look at his sister's foot. "See here. No wonder they stumble. Look at the little slipper. Why don't they wear good broad boots?" So saying he took off the little slipper, which seemed made for a Cinderella.

"You are too absurd," said Mercedes, blushing again, to see her slipper brandished aloft, in the face of a stranger.

"I ain't. It's women's feet that are absurd."

"When we want the ladies to be infantry soldiers, then we will ask them to cultivate big feet," said Don Mariano, laughing.

"But not until then, please," said Clarence, smiling.

"Aha! I see you cherish the general male weakness," said Victoriano, kneeling before his sister to put on the little slipper. "I am the only strong-minded man, I know. Come, pussy, I'll carry you to your room."

"No, no. You take me, papa, Tano might drop me."

"Nonsense; as if I couldn't carry a kitten like you."

"Papa, you take me, but not to bed. Put me on the lounge in mamma's room, and call Madam Halier to me."

"All right; anything to please the children," said Don Mariano, stooping to lift her.

She put her arms around his neck, and whispered: "Papa, who is this young man? I never saw him."

"That is a fact," said Don Mariano, taking her up, and turning toward Clarence, said: "Mr. Darrell, permit me to present you to my daughter, Mercedes, 'our baby.'" So saying, he dandled her a little in his arms.

"Oh, papa, you make me ridiculous! How can I bow like a lady, when you are rocking me like an infant!" she said, laughing, but blushing again like a rose.

"Shake hands with the gentleman, that's a dear," said Victoriano, talking baby talk to her.

"Oh, papa, make Tano hush. Mr. Darrell, I am afraid that I shall always seem ridiculous to you."

"Not at all; I don't see why," Clarence replied, "but I fear that your hurt might be serious."

"That's it. You might be ridiculous, but your hurt might be serious,"

said Victoriano.

It was Clarence's turn to blush now, but he smiled good naturedly.

"You won't be serious, though. I wish you were, and polite, too," said Mercedes. "I don't know what Mr. Darrell will think of us."

"Mr. Darrell will see us often, I hope, and think better of Tano," said Don Mariano, carrying away his precious burden.

"My opinion is all that you could wish, Miss Mercedes," said Clarence, and their eyes met, transmitting that strange thrill to both.

Don Mariano placed Mercedes tenderly on her mamma's lounge, called Madam Halier to attend to the sprained ankle, and returned to the veranda.

Clarence made no delay in stating the object of his visit. He said:

"Since the meeting I have had several talks with the settlers, and the result has been my conviction, that they will not accept your generous offer. They, no doubt, wish to take up more land, and think it cannot be done if they bind themselves to put up fences by accepting your proposition. How short-sighted they are time alone will show, for at present they will not listen to reason."

"I am very sorry. There is no alternative for me but to sell all my cattle as soon as possible, and in the meantime drive all I can to the mountains."

"But that will be ruinous, father. How can we herd them in the mountains? They will all become wild and run away," said Victoriano.

"I am afraid they will. I am sure of it, in fact. But there is no other way to save any at all."

"I think this 'no fence' law the most scandalous, bare-faced outrage upon the rights of citizens that I ever heard of," said Clarence, warmly. "It is like setting irresponsible trespassers loose upon a peaceable people, and then rewarding their outrage. To let any one take up your lands right before your eyes is outrage enough, but to cap the climax by authorizing people to plant crops without fences and then _corral_ your cattle, which must be attracted to the green grass, I call positively disgraceful, in a community which is not of vandals. It is shameful to the American name. I am utterly disgusted with the whole business, and the only thing that will make matters a little tolerable to me will be for you to do me the favor of permitting me to pay for the land we have located."

"Does your father wish to pay?"

"I do not know whether he would or not. I fear he would not. My father is a blind worshiper of the Congress of these United States, and consequently it is difficult to persuade him that our legislators might possibly do wrong. He believes that Congress has the right to declare _all_ California open to pre-emption, and all American citizens free to choose any land not already patented. Thus, he thinks he has the right to locate on your land (according to law, mind you), because he believes your title has been rejected. But as my faith in our law-givers is not so blind, my belief is that Congress had no more right to pass any law which could give an excuse to trespass upon your property, than to pass a law inviting people to your table. I feel a sort of impatience to think that in our country could exist a law which is so outrageously unjust. My pride as an American is somewhat different from that of my father. He thinks it is a want of patriotism to criticise our legislation. Whereas, I think our theory of government is so lofty, so grand and exalted, that we must watch jealously that Congress may not misinterpret it; misrepresent the sentiments, the aspirations of the American people, and thus make a caricature of our beautiful ideal. It is our duty and privilege to criticise our laws, and criticise severely.

As long as you, the native Californians, were to be despoiled of your lands, I think it would have been better to have passed a law of confiscation. Then we would have stood before the world with the responsibility of that barbarous act upon own shoulders. That would have been a national shame, but not so great as that of guaranteeing, by treaty, a protection which was not only withheld, but which was denied,-snatched away, treacherously,-making its denial legal by enactments of retroactive laws. This I call disgraceful to the American name. Therefore, in my humble way and limited sphere, if I cannot repeal, I will at least evade such unjust laws to the best of my ability, and make them ineffective as far as I am individually concerned. I only wish I could wipe out those stains on our national honor, by repealing at once laws so discreditable to us. Yes, the more so, as they bear directly upon the most defenseless, the most powerless of our citizens-the orphaned Spano-Americans. So, then, I hope you will help me to avoid this American shame, by permitting me to pay for our land whatever price you think just."

"Very well," said Don Mariano, pleased with Clarence's honest warmth, and to hear him express opinions and sentiments so very similar to his own. "You can pay whatever you wish, or we can make an agreement that I will sell to you when I get my patent. Such is my understanding with Mr.

Mechlin and also with your father."