ught. It was the business of a
well-brought-up Spanish maiden to be a passive instrument in the
carrying out of her father's views, especially in things matrimonial, in
which, indeed, love found little room for entrance. But Donna Mercedes
loved Captain Alvarado and she cared nothing for Don Felipe. Not that
Don Felipe was disagreeable to her, or to any one. He was a Spanish
gentleman in every sense of the word, handsome, distinguished, proud,
and gallant--but she did not, could not, love him. To complicate matters
still further de Tobar was Captain Alvarado's cherished companion and
most intimate friend.

The progress of the love affair between Alvarado and Donna Mercedes had
been subjective rather than objective. They had enjoyed some unusual
opportunities for meeting on account of the station the former filled in
the Viceroy's household and the place he held in his heart, yet the
opportunities for extended freedom of intercourse between young men and
women of the gentler class in those days, and especially among Spaniards
of high rank, were extremely limited. The old count took care to see
that his daughter was carefully watched and shielded; not because he
suspected her of anything, for he did not, but because it was a habit of
his people and his ancestry. The busy life that he led, the many
employments which were thrust upon him, his military duties, had kept
the days of the young soldier very full, and under the most favorable
circumstances he would have had little time for love making. Fortunately
much time is not required to develop a love affair, especially in New
Spain and near to the equator.

But though they had enjoyed brief opportunity for personal intercourse,
the very impossibilities of free communication, the difficulties of
meeting, had but added fuel and fire to their affection. Love had flamed
into these two hearts with all the intensity of their tropic blood and
tropic land. Alvarado's passion could feed for days and grow large upon
the remembrance of the fragrance of her hand when he kissed it last in
formal salutation. Mercedes' soul could enfold itself in the
recollection of the too ardent pressure of his lips, the burning yet
respectful glance he had shot at her, by others unperceived, when he
said farewell. The memory of each sigh the tropic breeze had wafted to
her ears as he walked in attendance upon her at some formal function of
the court was as much to her as the flower which she had artf