uslin frock, with a straight skirt and low waist and short,
full sleeves. It was confined by a blue belt with a gold buckle, and her
feet were in sandalled slippers of black satin.

The Angelus tolled, and the thousands of Hail Maries! which blended with
its swinging vibrations were uttered, and left to their fate, as all
spoken words must be. Antonia still observed the form. It lent for a
moment a solemn beauty to her face. She was about to re-enter the house,
when she saw a stranger approaching it. He was dressed in a handsome
buckskin suit, and a wide Mexican hat, but she knew at once that he was
an American, and she waited to receive him.

As soon as he saw her, he removed his hat and approached with it in
his hand. Perhaps he was conscious that the act not only did homage to
womanhood, but revealed more perfectly a face of remarkable beauty and
nobility. For the rest, he was very tall, powerfully built, elegantly
proportioned, and his address had the grace and polish of a cultured
gentleman.

"I wish to see Dr. Worth, Dona."

With a gentle inclination of the head, she led him to the door of her
father's office. She was the only one in the Doctor's family at all
familiar with the room. The Senora said so many books made her feel as
if she were in a church or monastery; she was afraid to say anything
but paternosters in it. Isabel cowered before the poor skeleton in the
corner, and the centipedes and snakes that filled the bottles on the
shelves. There was not a servant that would enter the room.

But Antonia did not regard books as a part of some vague spiritual
power. She knew the history of the skeleton. She had seen the death of
many of those "little devils" corked up in alcohol. She knew that at
this hour, if her father were at home he was always disengaged, and she
opened the door fearlessly, saying, "Father, here is a gentleman who
wishes to see you."

The doctor had quite refreshed himself, and, in a house-suit of clean,
white linen, was lying on a couch reading. He arose with alacrity, and
with his pleasant smile seemed to welcome the intruder, as he stepped
behind him and closed the door. Antonia had disappeared. They were quite
alone.

"You are Doctor Robert Worth, sir?"

Their eyes met, their souls knew each other.

"And you are Sam Houston?"

The questions were answered in a hand grip, a sympathetic smile on both
faces--the freemasonry of kindred spirits.

"I have a letter from your son Tho