e through the years that came after.

Eloise sat where I could see her face. The pink bloom had come back to
it, and the golden hair, disordered by our wild ride and rough climb
among the pictured rocks of the cliff, curled carelessly on her white
brow and rippled about her shapely head. I used to wonder what setting
fitted her beauty best--why wonder that about any beautiful woman?--but
the gracious loveliness of this woman was never more appealing to me
than in the soft light and sacred atmosphere of the church.

Father Josef's first thought was for her, but he brought water and
coarse linen towels, so that, refreshed and clean-faced, we came in to
his presence.

"Eloise," his voice was deep and sweet, "so long as you were a child I
tried to protect and direct you. Now that you are a woman, you must
still be protected, but you must live your own life and choose for
yourself. You must meet sorrow and not be crushed by it. You must take
up your cross and bear it. It is for this that I have called you back to
New Mexico at this time. But remember, my daughter, that life is not
given to us for defeat, but for victory; not for tears, but for smiles;
not for idle cringing safety, but for brave and joyous struggle."

I thought of Dick Verra, the college man, whose own young years were
full of hope and ambition, whose love for a woman had brought him to the
priesthood, but as I caught the rich tones of Father Josef's voice,
somehow, to me, he stood for success, not failure.

Eloise bowed her head and listened.

"You must no longer be threatened with the loss of your own heritage,
nor coerced into a marriage for which the Church has been offered a
bribe to help to accomplish. Blood money purifies no altars nor extends
the limits of the Kingdom of the Christ. Your property is your own to
use for the holy purposes of a goodly life wherever your days may lead
you; and whatever the civil law may grant of power to control it for
you, you shall no longer be harassed or annoyed. The Church demands that
it shall henceforth be yours."

Father Josef's dark eyes were full of fire as he turned to Ferdinand
Ramero.

"You will now relinquish all claim upon the control of this estate,
whose revenue made your father and yourself to be accounted rich, and
upon which your son has been allowed to build up a life expectation; and
though on account of it, you go forth a poor man in wordly goods, you
may go out rich in the blessing of rest