oper that so handsome a woman should live with a priest
even though she be his ward and he an old man."

"Handsome?" sneered the Senora, drawing herself together as though she
had received an electric shock; the pleased and animated expression of
her face changing suddenly to one of utmost frigidity. "I never could
understand why people considered that Indian good looking," and her
black eyes snapped as she turned to resume her work, plainly betraying
the jealousy aroused. Senora Sanchez, knowing her sister's temper only
too well, hastened to change the subject.

Strange to say, Padre Antonio did not share the public's sentiment, or
rather that of his own particular flock, concerning Chiquita's latest
escapade. Instead of being overwhelmed, broken in spirit and utterly
cast down by grief and shame as had been confidently predicted, he, much
to the disgust of his congregation, went calmly about his duties as
though nothing unusual had occurred, referring jocosely to this lark of
his madcap ward as he was pleased to term it.

Lark? Heavens! had the Padre lost his senses? Excommunication might be a
little too severe, but a year's solitary confinement in a convent as a
penance for her sin was the least penalty she could expect.

But Padre Antonio knew what the rest of the world did not. That his
charming, irrepressible protegee would have snapped her fingers lightly
at the mere suggestion of either. The days of mediaeval suppression of
females had come to an end even in Mexico. Moreover, there existed a
perfect understanding between the two.

During his long years of missionary work he had learned that the heathen
often stood higher in the sight of Heaven than many a zealous devotee of
the Church. Besides, dancing was not only a national pastime of the
Spaniard, but among Indians, a part of their religion as well.

That Chiquita had some very good reason for dancing in public, he knew
well enough. They understood one another perfectly, and he did not ask
her her reason for dancing, knowing full well that some day she would
tell him of her own accord.

Although Chiquita had accommodated herself marvelously well to the new
conditions, imbibing the best civilization had to offer, she
nevertheless remained the freeborn woman--the descendant of a freeborn
race of men. The wild, free nomad whom experience and direct contact
with nature had early taught to recognize the simple underlying truths
and realities of life and the