"That should be so, but it is not the case. No, I don't see any remedy in my life-time. I am afraid there is no help for us native Californians. We must sadly fade and pass away. The weak and the helpless are always trampled in the throng. We must sink, go under, never to rise. If the Americans had been friendly to us, and helped us with good, protective laws, our fate would have been different. But to legislate us into poverty is to legislate us into our graves. Their very contact is deadly to us."

"And yet you do not seem to hate us."

"Hate you? No, indeed! Never! The majority of my best friends are Americans. Instead of hate, I feel great attraction toward the American people. Their sentiments, their ways of thinking suit me, with but few exceptions. I am fond of the Americans. I know that, as a matter of fact, only the very mean and narrow-minded have harsh feelings against my race. The trouble, the misfortune has been that the American people felt perfect indifference towards the conquered few. We were not in sufficient numbers to command attention. We were left to the tender mercies of Congress, and the American nation never gave us a thought after the treaty of peace with Mexico was signed. Probably any other nation would have done the same. Why should I then hate them? No, indeed. But I confess my heart collapses when I think what might be the fate of my family if I am not able to avert the ruin which has overtaken the majority of Californians. We have not been millionaires, but we have never known want. We are all ill prepared for poverty; and yet this long-delayed justice, and the squatters crowding me so relentlessly-" he stopped short, then added: "I am not giving you a cheerful welcome with my gloomy conversation."

"But I want you to talk to me frankly and give me your views. You have told me much that I had never heard before, and which I am glad to learn. But as for feeling gloomy about the future of the family, I think a plan that Mr. George Mechlin and myself have been forming will make things rather better for the future, and we trust you will approve it."

"What is the plan?"

CHAPTER XVII.-_Dona Josefa at Home._

Don Mariano had only said, "What is the plan?" a very natural and simple inquiry, and yet it threw Clarence into something of a flutter, as it flashed vividly before his mind that the said _plan_ was based entirely upon the fate of the Texas Pacific Railroad, and that as a natural sequence it depended upon the wisdom, the moral sense and patriotism of Congress. If Congress acted right and did its duty as the mentor, guardian and trustee of the people, all would be well. But would it?

Would it, indeed? The past promised nothing to the future, judging by the light of Don Mariano's experience. But why should the Texas Pacific not be granted aid? The public treasure had been lavished to help the Central Pacific, a northern road-why should the southern people not be entitled to the same privilege? These thoughts flashed through Clarence's mind before he answered, then he said, somewhat timidly:

"The plan is to establish a bank in San Diego, with Mr. George Mechlin for President, and Don Gabriel for Cashier. The only drawback is, of course, the delay there might be in constructing the Texas Pacific Railroad-the delay in the growth of San Diego. As yet, however, we are hopeful, and the prospect seems good."

"The prospect is perfectly good, and I would have entire confidence in it, if the fate of the railroad did not depend upon right and just legislation. The Congressmen from the north do not seem to feel all the interest they should in reviving the south. They are angry yet. The fact that they coerced back into the Union the southern people has not appeased them yet, it seems. I wish Tom Scott would build his road without Congressional aid. The success of your banking project must, of course, depend upon the amount of population in San Diego."

"Undoubtedly. And if there is no railroad, there will be no population.

But Mr. Mechlin and myself are ready with our money, and with the least encouraging sign we start our bank. I think we will begin at first with two hundred thousand dollars. Mr. Mechlin says he can subscribe twenty-five or thirty thousand dollars, and I will put the balance in, subscribing thirty thousand for Don Gabriel, twenty-five thousand for Victoriano and twenty-five thousand for Everett, with ninety thousand for myself."

"You must be prudent in incurring risks."

"I am. I have more than two hundred thousand that I can put in this bank without troubling my government bonds or my farm."

Clarence then explained to Don Mariano his financial affairs.

Don Mariano smiled as he said: "I had no idea you were so well off."

"I expect to make a fortune out of my Arizona mines," said he, laughing.

"Take care. Do not put any of your government bonds in them."

"Indeed, I shall not. The interest on those bonds gives me nearly thirty-five thousand dollars per year, and this income is for-" here Clarence blushed and was silent.

"To take care of your wife," Don Mariano said.

"Yes, sir; for that alone. But do you think Dona Josefa will object to me after you explain my position?"

"As her only objection is that she thinks you are squatters, she would be very unreasonable should she hold the same objections after she knows that you are not."

"You make me very happy telling me that. I hope you will let me know soon what answer she gives to you."

"Certainly. You can come to-morrow."

"I have some little packages that Mrs. Mechlin sends. I can bring them this evening-the ladies might wish to see the contents."

"Of course, they will. They wouldn't be women if they didn't. They'll want you to relate all the incidents of the voyage, too, and the trip to the Yosemite. If you can, come this evening. I'll tell them you are coming."

"Thank you, sir."

Everett and Victoriano overtook them now as they entered the valley.

"Say, Clary," Everett called out, "don't you want to get out here and change seats with Tano?"

"I'll take him home," Don Mariano answered; and they all drove toward the Darrell house.

At the door were Mr. Darrell and Alice. Immediately after, Darrell came out to greet his son. He was rather cordial to Don Mariano, and asked him to come in and take lunch. This was so very unexpected to all his hearers, that, with the exception of Don Mariano, all showed their surprise. This kind invitation, however, was politely declined-whereupon Victoriano, pretending to feel slighted because he was not invited, tossed his head at Clarence and Everett, and marched majestically towards his father's carriage.

Everett overtook him, and would not let him get in, insisting upon his remaining to luncheon. Victoriano then indicating that he was entirely pacified, remained, perfectly happy, knowing his seat would be near Alice, and that was the allurement, but he said to Tisha, as she came to set a plate for him:

"Your cooking is so good, Tisha, that I always come sneaking around, begging for an invitation, for I am sure you have something nice to give us."

"La massa! and right welcome ye are, too, by everybody in this 'ere family, and I knows it exactly."

And Tisha winked to herself in the pantry, indicating to the crockery on the shelves that she knew why Massa Tano liked her cooking, "and Miss Alice knows it, God bless her," said Tisha, nodding her head to the rows of preserves and pickle jars, in sheer exultation, for there was nothing so interesting to Tisha on the face of the earth as a love affair.

"_All the world love the lover_," says Emerson, and Tisha could certify to this aphoristic truth, for who more humble than Tisha? And yet her heart went headlong to the lover, whoever he might be. Therefore, a love affair in the Darrell family was to Tisha perfectly entrancing. She had been in a state of undefined bliss ever since her perceptive organs and other means of information had indicated to her that _Clarence was in love_! She had taken upon herself to watch and see that the affair progressed and ended happily.

In the evening Clarence proceeded to deliver the packages sent by Elvira to her mother and sisters.

With beating heart he timidly ascended the steps of the front veranda of the Alamar house, for he did not feel entirely certain that Dona Josefa's objections would be withdrawn. He was not kept in suspense about the matter, however, as now, preceded by woolly Milord, the handsome matron herself came forward to meet him, extending her hand in welcome most gracious. She never had seemed to him so handsome, so regally beautiful. He thought that he had been right in imagining Juno must have looked like her. And when she smiled, as she extended her hand to him, he thought that such was surely the smile, the manner and the beauty of a goddess.

"I am so glad to welcome you, Mr. Darrell," said she, "and knowing that you wish to speak to me, and as I, too, wish to speak with you alone, I thought I would meet you here by myself."

Milord barked, wagged his tail in token of friendship, and sat up to listen.

"You are very kind," Clarence said, placing the packages on a table near him, not knowing, however, what else to say.

"Sit down," Dona Josefa said, pushing one of the large arm-chairs for Clarence to sit near. "And let me begin our conversation by apologizing for the very wrong, very unjust opinion I have had of you. Believe me, it gives me great pleasure to know I was mistaken."

Her voice, her manner, were more gracious than her words, and Clarence thought that it was not to be wondered that the daughters were so very charming.

"I am the one who should apologize," he hastened to reply; "I ought to have asked Don Mariano to explain my position to you before."

"I wish you had, for that would have saved us many anxious thoughts. But let us not regret the past too much, only enough to cause us to appreciate the present. I understand how you felt, not wishing to seem disrespectful to your father, and yet not agreeing with him."

"It has been the source of very painful feelings to me to see my father so misled, but I have found very great comfort in the fact that my mother agrees with me. She told me she would never come down if I did not pay for the land."

"Yes; Mariano told me this, and I beg of you to convey to her my regrets at having been in error about this matter. Will you do so, please?"

"Certainly, madam; with great pleasure."

"I trust that her good influence will be of great assistance to you in persuading your father to change his views."