one
tear."

Benicia turned swiftly to her mother, her eyes glittering with pleasure.
"Mother, you hear! You hear!" she cried in Spanish. "These Americans are
not so bad, after all."

Dona Eustaquia gave the young man one of her rare smiles; it flashed
over her strong dark face, until the light of youth was there once more.

"Very pretty speech," she said, with slow precision. "I thank you, Senor
Russell, in the name of the women of Monterey."

"By Jove! Madam--senora--I assure you I never felt so cut up in my
life as when I saw all those beautiful women crying down there by the
Custom-house. I am a good American, but I would rather have thrown the
flag under your feet than have seen you cry like that. And I assure you,
dear senora, every man among us felt the same. As you have been good
enough to thank me in the name of the women of Monterey, I, in behalf of
the officers of the United States squadron, beg that you will forgive
us."

Dona Eustaquia's cheek paled again, and she set her lips for a moment;
then she held out her hand.

"Senor," she said, "we are conquered, but we are Californians; and
although we do not bend the head, neither do we turn the back. We have
invite you to our houses, and we cannot treat you like enemies. I will
say with--how you say it--truth?--we did hate the thought that you
come and take the country that was ours. But all is over and cannot
be changed. So, it is better we are good friends than poor ones;
and--and--my house is open to you, senor."

Russell was a young man of acute perceptions; moreover, he had heard
of Dona Eustaquia; he divined in part the mighty effort by which good
breeding and philosophy had conquered bitter resentment. He raised the
little white hand to his lips.

"I would that I were twenty men, senora. Each would be your devoted
servant."

"And then she have her necklace!" cried Benicia, delightedly.

"What is that?" asked Russell; but Dona Eustaquia shook her fan
threateningly and turned away.

"I no tell you everything," said Benicia, "so no be too curiosa. You no
dance the contradanza, no?"

"I regret to say that I do not. But this is a plain waltz; will you not
give it to me?"

Benicia, disregarding the angry glances of approaching caballeros, laid
her hand on the officer's shoulder, and he spun her down the room.

"Why, you no dance so bad!" she said with surprise. "I think always the
Americanos dance so terreeblay."

"Who could not dance with