humorous twinkle in her magnificent black eyes and not
a hint of diffidence. As she entered the room his brain had flashed
out the thought: "Thank heaven for a pretty girl after these three
abominable years!" Possibly his pleasure would have been salted with
pique had he guessed that her thought was the twin of his own. He was
the first man of any world more considerable than the petty court of
the viceroy of Mexico that had visited California in her time, and
excellent as she found his tall military figure and pale cold face, the
novelty of the circumstance fluttered her more.

Dona "Concha" Arguello was the beauty of California, and although her
years were but sixteen her blood was Spanish, and she carried her tall
deep figure and fine head with the grace and dignity of an accomplished
woman. She had inherited the white skin and delicate Roman-Spanish
profile of the Moragas, but there was an intelligent fire in her eyes,
a sharp accentuation of nostril, and a full mobility of mouth,
childish, half-developed as that feature still was, that betrayed a
strong cross-current forcing the placid maternal flow into rugged and
unexplored channels, while assimilating its fine qualities of pride and
high breeding. Gervasio and Santiago resembled their sister in
coloring and profile, but lacked her subtle quality of personality and
divine innocence. Luis was more the mother's son than the
father's--saving his olive skin; a grandee, modified by the
simplicities of a soldier's life, amiable and upright. Dona Ignacia
recognized in Concha the quintessence of the two opposing streams, and
had long since ceased to impose upon a girl who had little else but her
liberties, the conventional restrictions of the Spanish maiden. Concha
had already received many offers of marriage and regarded men as mere
swingers of incense. Moreover, her cultivated mind was filled with
ideals and ideas far beyond anything California would yield in her day.

As Rezanov, upon Dona Ignacia's retreat, walked directly over to her,
she smilingly seated herself on a sofa and swept aside her voluminous
white skirts. She was not sure that she liked him, but in no doubt
whatever of her delight at his advent.

Her manners were very simple and artless, as are the manners of most
women whom Nature has gifted with complexity and depth.

"It is now two years and more that we have been excited over the
prospect of this visit," she said. "But if you will tell