invincible loyalty of principle, and that,
asking no sentimental affection, and indeed yielding none, he was,
without presuming on his relationship, devoted to his cousin's interest.
It seemed that from being a glancing ray of sunshine in the house,
evasive but never obtrusive, he had become a daily necessity of comfort
and security to his benefactor.

Clarence was, however, astonished, when, one morning, Don Juan, with the
same embarrassed manner he had shown at their first meeting, suddenly
asked him, "what business he expected to follow." It seemed the more
singular, as the speaker, like most abstracted men, had hitherto always
studiously ignored the future, in their daily intercourse. Yet this
might have been either the habit of security or the caution of
doubt. Whatever it was, it was some sudden disturbance of Don Juan's
equanimity, as disconcerting to himself as it was to Clarence. So
conscious was the boy of this that, without replying to his cousin's
question, but striving in vain to recall some delinquency of his own, he
asked, with his usual boyish directness--

"Has anything happened? Have I done anything wrong?"

"No, no," returned Don Juan hurriedly. "But, you see, it's time that
you should think of your future--or at least prepare for it. I mean
you ought to have some more regular education. You will have to go to
school. It's too bad," he added fretfully, with a certain impatient
forgetfulness of Clarence's presence, and as if following his own
thought. "Just as you are becoming of service to me, and justifying
your ridiculous position here--and all this d--d nonsense that's gone
before--I mean, of course, Clarence," he interrupted himself, catching
sight of the boy's whitening cheek and darkening eye, "I mean, you
know--this ridiculousness of my keeping you from school at your age, and
trying to teach you myself--don't you see."

"You think it is--ridiculous," repeated Clarence, with dogged
persistency.

"I mean I am ridiculous," said Don Juan hastily. "There! there! let's
say no more about it. To-morrow we'll ride over to San Jose and see the
Father Secretary at the Jesuits' College about your entering at once.
It's a good school, and you'll always be near the rancho!" And so the
interview ended.

I am afraid that Clarence's first idea was to run away. There are
few experiences more crushing to an ingenuous nature than the sudden
revelation of the aspect in which it is regarded by others. The