ndolence of the Californian.

"Very well," he said, "take me to her."

He asked her to dance, and after a waltz Eulogia said she was tired, and
they sat down within a proper distance of Dona Pomposa's eagle eye.

"What do you think of the women of San Luis Obispo?" asked Eulogia,
innocently. "Are not they handsome?"

"They are not to be compared with the women of Monterey--since you ask
me."

"Because they find the men of San Luis more gallant than the Senor Don
Pablo Ignestria!"

"Do they? One, I believe, asked to have me introduced to her!"

"True, senor. I wished to meet you that you might fall in love with me,
and that the ladies of San Luis might have their vengeance."

He stared at her.

"Truly, senorita, but you do not hide your cards. And why, then, should
I fall in love with you?"

"Because I am different from the women of Monterey."

"A good reason why I should not. I have been in every town in
California, and I admire no women but those of my city."

"And because you will hate me first."

"And if I hate you, how can I love you?"

"It is the same. You hate one woman and love another. Each is the same
passion, only to a different person out goes a different side. Let the
person loved or hated change his nature, and the passion will change."

He looked at her with more interest.

"In truth I think I shall begin with love and end with hate, senorita.
But that wisdom was not born in your little head; for sixteen years, I
think, have not sped over it, no? It went in, if I mistake not, through
those bright eyes."

"Yes, senor, that is true. I am not content to be just like other girls
of sixteen. I want to _know_--_to know._ Have you ever read any books,
senor?"

"Many." He looked at her with a lively interest now. "What ones have you
read?"

"Only the beautiful romances of the Senor Dumas. I have seen no others,
for there are not many books in San Luis. Have you read others?"

"A great many others. Two wonderful Spanish books--'Don Quixote de la
Mancha' and 'Gil Blas,' and the romances of Sir Waltere Scote--a man of
England, and some lives of famous men, senorita. A great man lent them
to me--the greatest of our Governors--Alvarado."

"And you will lend them to me?" cried Eulogia, forgetting her coquetry,
"I want to read them."

"Aha! Those cool eyes can flash. That even little voice can break in
two. By the holy Evangelists, senorita, thou shalt have every book I
possess."

"Will the