aining a draft in noble excess of all arrears
and charges, the widow's heart was lifted, and the rock smitten with the
golden wand gushed beneficence that shone in a new gown for the widow
and a new suit for "Johnny," her son, a new oil cloth in the hall,
better service to the lodgers, and, let us be thankful, a kindlier
consideration for the poor little black-eyed painter from Monterey, then
dreadfully behind in her room rent. For, to tell the truth, the calls
upon Miss De Haro's scant purse by her uncle had lately been frequent,
perjury having declined in the Monterey market, through excessive
and injudicious supply, until the line of demarcation between it and
absolute verity was so finely drawn that Victor Garcia had remarked that
"he might as well tell the truth at once and save his soul, since the
devil was in the market."

Mistress Plodgitt, the landlady, could not resist the desire to acquaint
Carmen De Haro with her good fortune. "He was always a friend of yours,
my dear,--and I know him to be a gentleman that would never let a
poor widow suffer; and see what he says about you!" Here she produced
Thatcher's note and read: "Tell my little neighbor that I shall come
back soon to carry her and her sketching tools off by force, and I shall
not let her return until she has caught the black mountains and the
red rocks she used to talk about, and put the 'Blue Mass' mill in the
foreground of the picture I shall order."

What is this, little one? Surely, Carmen, thou needst not blush at
this, thy first grand offer. Holy Virgin! is it of a necessity that thou
shouldst stick the wrong end of thy brush in thy mouth, and then drop it
in thy lap? Or was it taught thee by the good Sisters at the convent to
stride in that boyish fashion to the side of thy elders and snatch from
their hands the missive thou wouldst read? More of this we would know,
O Carmen,--smallest of brunettes,--speak, little one, even in thine own
melodious speech, that I may commend thee and thy rare discretion to my
own fair countrywomen.

Alas, neither the present chronicler nor Mistress Plodgitt got any
further information from the prudent Carmen, and must fain speculate
upon certain facts that were already known.

Mistress Carmen's little room was opposite to Thatcher's, and once or
twice, the doors being open, Thatcher had a glimpse across the passage
of a black-haired and a sturdy, boyish little figure in a great blue
apron, perched on a stool