wine and a glowing wealth of golden
hair, tempting and alluring as the luxuriance of old Rome at the height
of her triumphs before her decadence set in--the last fair breath of her
ancient glory--the best and fairest that modern civilization had
produced. She had no need of the artificial head-gear and upholstery
with which the modern society belle is wont to bolster up herself. There
was not the slightest trace of rouge on her lips or cheeks. She had
learned that simple food, fresh air and sleep and exercise were the only
preservatives for the form and complexion. Spoiled though she was, she
was genuine to the core.

On the other hand, what the symmetrical well-rounded lines of Chiquita's
figure lost by the unfair comparison of her worn and faded dress with
that of the latest Parisian creation, was more than compensated for by
the heavy luxuriant masses of blue-black hair, straight nose, large,
dark piercing eyes that shone from beneath delicately penciled, broad
arching brows, and the mysterious hawk-like wildness of her gaze and
appearance and general air of strength and power, baffling and
inscrutable as the origin of her race; a face and figure which
exemplified the perfect type of a race that carried one back to the
forgotten days of ancient Egypt and India.

Truly, twice blessed or cursed by the gods was he to be loved by two
such women; the one fashion's, the other nature's child.

The look of embarrassment on Captain Forest's face, together with the
ludicrousness of the situation, caused Bessie to burst into a sudden fit
of laughter into which Blanch, in spite of herself, was irresistibly
drawn. Fortunately for the Captain, he did not entirely lose his
presence of mind as one is apt to do who unexpectedly finds himself
between two tigers about to spring. He did the only sensible thing a man
could do under the circumstances. He retired precipitately, leaving the
field to whomsoever wished it most.

"The Senoritas laugh," said Chiquita at length, the first to speak.
There was a strange light in her eyes as she slowly descended the
veranda and came toward them. The sound of her full, rich, musical
voice, colored with a soft accent that was pleasing to the ear,
instantly brought Blanch and Bessie to themselves.

"Perhaps," she began again calmly, "it is because I am poor?"

"Oh, no, Senorita, how could you imagine--" exclaimed Blanch, recovering
her breath.

"Then perhaps it is because I am an Indian and r