"Let Mr. Darrell take a look first," suggested Mercedes.

Clarence arose to go, Elvira said: "Only pass by, as if by accident, and we'll go or not, according to circumstances."

When Clarence had gone beyond hearing, Elvira said: "He looks pale again, have you made him unhappy?"

"I have not made him happy, that is sure, and I am miserable, but you know mamma's feelings, what can I do? Oh, what can I do?" said she, putting her arms around her sister and the hot tears she had been repressing flowed fast. "I am so sorry I have to make him so unhappy."

"I must say I feel sorry for him myself. I am not sure that mamma does him justice," Elvira observed reflectively.

"And to think that papa himself told him to follow me."

"Is that so?"

"Yes; and he is disappointed, but what can I do, dear, when mamma told me _not to encourage_ him?"

"I certainly am under no pledge, and papa's authority is entitled to as much respect as mamma's," Elvira said significantly.

"That is true, but you see mamma made me promise not to _encourage_ him," said Mercedes with sad insistence.

"Yes, and Rosa and Lota urged her to it. There is George now."

"I will go to my room; they will see by my red eyes that I cried."

"Go and bathe them. Drink some water, too, and come back."

"And I'll bring you some by way of an excuse."

"Why did Mercedes run off?" George asked.

"She will be back in a minute; she went to take a glass of water."

"Oh! why did she not tell me to bring it to her?" said Clarence regretfully. "I ought to have thought of bringing it. Wouldn't she rather have a glass of wine or lemonade? and you, too, Mrs. Mechlin? I shall take it as a favor if you will accept. A glass of champagne with ice I think would do very well for all of us; don't you think so Mr.

Mechlin?"

"Yes, champagne with ice would be very nice, provided the champagne be good," George replied.

"Let us try any way," said Clarence, going to order the wine. George and Elvira watched him, and when out of hearing George said:

"Don't you know I like that young man very much. What is your mother's objection to him?"

"His family, I believe, or rather his father."

"Old Darrell looks like a decent, honorable sort of a man to me.

Certainly Clarence is very gentlemanly, and (what is equally to be considered) Mercedes likes him more than is good for her peace of mind if she is not to have him."

"My poor little sister, she is so unhappy, and, just think of it, papa told Clarence to come, to follow Mercedes and propose to her."

"He did? That is just like him. Doubtless he thought of the times when he would ride eighty miles to go and serenade Dona Josefa, and his sympathies all went to Darrell. It is a pity your mother doesn't feel as kindly."

"And what makes me feel more for Mercedes is, that she loves Clarence dearly, but in obedience to mamma's wishes she will not even give him any encouragement at all."

"Then _we_ must, that's all. Only let us first be sure that she loves him."

"Oh, as to that, if you had only seen her beautiful eyes filled with such sad tears because she cannot accept his love, you would have no doubts as to her feelings."

"Then my course is clear. I am a Christian gentleman and will not see savage torture inflicted on my blue-eyed _hermanita_. I think I know how to fix it up."

"What will you do?"

"_Quien sabe_ just this minute, but it will be _something_, depend upon it. There he is now," and Clarence came, followed by a waiter bringing the champagne and ice. He looked disappointed at not finding Mercedes.

"That little sister of ours I fear has given us the slip. I think I'll go and fetch her bodily," George said, rising to go.

"No; let me go," said Elvira. When George was left alone with Clarence he said:

"I fear that Mercedes is very unhappy, she left when she saw us coming, Elvira says, because she feared her eyes showed traces of tears."

Clarence clenched his hands as if he would like to throttle all bad luck in general, and this one in particular, looked haggard, but remained silent. George continued:

"Spanish girls are trained to strict filial obedience, and it is a good thing when not carried too far. Now, Mercedes made to her mother some very foolish promise, and if her heart was to break into little pieces she would not swerve-not she-though she be fully aware that her happiness would be wrecked for ever, she would not disobey her mother."

"But is it alone her mother's wishes? In obeying her mother, does she not follow her own inclination?"

George laughed, saying: "She must be a strange girl, indeed, if she weeps so bitterly and is so unhappy to follow her inclination."

"Oh, if I only could think that! Are you sure?"

"Why did Dona Josefa wish to send her away? Only for the hope that she might get over her love for you. Mercedes is not yet eighteen, and, being so young, her mother thought that by sending her away from you and yours, she might forget you. Only such hope as that could have prevailed upon Dona Josefa to part with her baby. Spanish mothers will never let a daughter go out of the maternal sight until they are married; but for the fear that Mercita's attachment to you might become incurable if not effaced early, the mother was ready to sacrifice her feelings. For it was a terrible sacrifice, it was like pulling her heart strings to send her baby off."

"Oh, how she must hate me then to have such strong objections to me,"

said Clarence, sadly.

"No, she does not hate you"-and George hesitated.

"Yes, I know she thinks I have done something wrong or dishonorable, but what that is, I have not the slightest idea."

"Excuse me for saying so, but I think it was a mistake not to tell her-and Mercedes also-that you bought the land you occupy. Dona Josefa cannot think it is honorable to take up land as your father did. She cannot understand how any law of Congress can authorize a man to take the property of another against his will and without paying for it."

"And she is perfectly right. I see the mistake now, and I regret it more than words can tell. You knew why I asked Don Mariano not to mention that I had paid him."

"Yes, Gabriel told me first, and he, too, thinks it is a mistake to let the Alamar ladies have a wrong idea of you. He thinks you do an injustice to yourself. We were talking about it when Don Mariano joined us, and he agreed with Gabriel and said that he would speak to you about it very soon. Doesn't any of your family know about it?"

"Yes, Everett and mother do. She would not have come down if I had not told her I paid for the land. But she and I thought that for the present we had better say nothing about it to father, knowing how sensitive he is about his views of '_Squatter rights_?' He has had so much trouble about those same rights."

"I suppose you will have to tell him soon-I mean when the attorney general dismisses the appeal."

"When will that be, do you think?"

"Just as soon as the Supreme Court is in session. It would have been done last fall had not the solicitor general interfered in the most absurd and arbitrary manner."