Hiltze said you were a child, and you are so
little and slim and young."

"You have been a woman, living a woman's life, with all a woman's
interests. But our women are sheltered, kept away from life, and that is
why I am like a child in facing the world--because I have never faced it.
I look young, and act young, because--well, with us, our women marry
early. If they do not, they must retain the charm of youth until they do.
That is what we are taught, it is our business as women to be young and
lovely until we marry."

"I love to hear you talk," said Eveley irrelevantly. "You are just like a
chapter out of a new and thrilling story--See, I have let my chocolate
grow cold just looking at you, and listening. I am very glad you are
nearly as old as I--we can not only be sisters, but twins if you like."

Marie sipped her chocolate, daintily, dreamily. Then she looked at Eveley
searchingly.

"Is this your patriotism?" she asked at last. "To throw open your home on
a moment's notice, to a stranger from a strange land?"

"We call it Americanization," said Eveley. "We call it the assimilation
of--of--" She hesitated, not wishing to speak of "flotsam and jetsam" to
this soft and pliant creature. "We call it the assimilation of the whole
world into American ideals."

"Then," said Marie slowly, dark eyes still searching Eveley's face, "I
suppose, having this vision of patriotism yourself, you can understand
patriotism of others from other lands? You can understand why people
plot, and steal, and kill--for love of country? My own land, for
instance--so many call us bloody butchers because we fight for our
country and for freedom. But you--you know what patriotism is. And you
can understand, can you not?"

"Of course I understand," said Eveley rather confusedly, for the Mexican
business was a terrible muddle to her. "I understand that your men must
fight to save their country from the rebels and anarchists who would
wreck and ruin her."

"Yes, but--it is the rebels and anarchists who would save her," said
Marie, with childish earnestness. "I--we--I am of the revolutionists. My
father was killed. My brothers were killed. My sisters were made captive.
But still the struggle goes on. The best of our men must fight and die.
Poor Mexico must struggle and blunder on from one disaster to another,
until at last she rises triumphant and free among the nations of the
world. It is those in power in her own land from whom Mexico has