to her. And if she's willing, I'll just run the
mine for the next year or so, and after that we can talk about
traveling."

Mr. Keene, during the past hour, had been made sensible of certain
deficiencies in himself. No one had accused him or reproached him, yet
he felt chagrined as he saw his own conduct forcibly contrasted with
the conduct of a different sort. But now, as his daughter sent a
beaming glance toward him, his spirits rose again, and he began once
more to regard himself hopefully, as a man who, despite some failings,
was honest in the main, and generous and well-meaning.

"Oh, how glad I am!" said Lola. "_Tia, tia_, do you hear? You are a
lady of fortune and must have a velvet gown! And, oh, _tia_, a tall,
silver comb in your hair!" She dropped a sudden kiss down upon the
smooth, brown bands, and added in a deeper tone, "But nothing, nothing,
can make you better or dearer!"

Jane smiled uncertainly as if she were in a dream. Could this
unlooked-for, bewildering satisfaction be indeed real, and not a
visionary thing which would presently fade? She looked about. There
was actuality in the scene. The cottonwoods rustled crisply, Alejandro
Vigil was calling to his dog, and the tinkle of his herd stole softly
upon her ear. The great hills rose majestic as of old upon the glorious
western sky; the plains stretched off in silvery, sea-like waves to the
very verge of the world. And hard by many a familiar thing spoke of a
past which she knew; pots of geraniums, muslin shades and open piano.
There, too, was Mr. Keene, sitting at ease in his chair; there was
Lola, bending over her in smiling reassurance. And finally, there was
Tesuque himself regarding her from his shelf in an Olympian calm which
no merely mortal emotion could touch or stir. Tesuque's little bowl was
still empty, but in his adobe glance Jane suddenly grew aware how truly
her own cup overflowed.

[THE END]

A PRAIRIE INFANTA

By EVA WILDEER BRODHEAD

A clever Western story that develops in a little Colorado mining town.
One is made to see the green, tall cottonwoods, the straggling
mud-houses and pungent goat-corrals of its people, among whom lived the
woman who took to her great heart the motherless Lola.

The tropical brilliancy of the girl, by reason of her red frock and the
red ribbons in her hair, excites the jealousy of the little Mexicans
and the paler children from the mining end of the town, and in their
disapproval they st