n the chapel; but she was made for love, and
in a moment her white arms were clinging about his neck. People were
shouting around them; there was time for but few of the words Dario
wished to say.

"Thou must write me a little note every day," he commanded. "Thy
brother's coat, one that he does not wear, hangs behind the door in my
room. To-morrow morning thou wilt find a letter from me in the pocket.
Let me find one there, too. Kiss me again, consuelo de mi alma!" and
they separated suddenly, to speak no more that night.

VII

The next morning, when Elena went to Joaquin's room to make the bed,
she found Dario's note in the pocket of the coat, but she had had no
opportunity to write one herself. Nor did she have time to read his
until after dinner, although it burned her neck and took away her
appetite. When the meal was over, she ran down to the willows and read
it there, then went straight to the favourite lounging-place of an old
vaquero who had adored her from the days when she used to trot about the
rancho holding his forefinger, or perch herself upon his shoulder and
command him to gallop.

He was smoking his pipe, and he looked up in some wonder as she stood
before him, flushed and panting, her eyes-darting apprehensive glances.

"Pedro," she said imperiously, "get down on thy hands and knees."

Pedro was the colour of tanned leather and very hairy, but his face
beamed with good-nature. He put his pipe between his teeth and did as
he was bidden. Elena produced the pencil and paper she had managed
to purloin from her father's table, and kneeling beside her faithful
vaquero, wrote a note on his back. It took her a long time to coin that
simple epistle, for she never had written a love-letter before. But
Pedro knelt like a rock, although his old knees ached. When the note was
finished she thrust it into her gown, and patted Pedro on the head.

"I love thee, my old man. I will make thee a new salve for thy
rheumatism, and a big cake."

As she approached the house her mother stood on the corridor watching
the young people mount, and Elena shivered as she met a fiery and
watchful eye. Yesterday had been a perfect day, but the chill of fear
touched this. She sprang on her horse and went with the rest to the
games. Her brother Joaquin kept persistently by her side, and Dario
thought it best not to approach her. She took little interest in the
games. The young men climbed the greased pole amidst soft derisive