tward appearances. Considering the tension and delicacy of the
situation, the volcanic nature of the two and the intense longing of
each to fly at the other and settle their differences then and there,
the self-control of the two was commendable in the extreme.

"Do you ride much, Senorita?" asked Blanch, eyeing critically her
riding-skirt and wondering how it was that such an antiquated cut could
sit her so well.

"I don't think I could live without a horse," replied Chiquita. "I often
think I must have been born on one; at least, I can't remember the day
when I first learned to ride. It was good to get back here after my six
years at school for the sake of riding, if for nothing else. I don't
believe either of you know what the real joys of riding are," she went
on, pulling the glove from her right hand and sipping the chocolate
which Bessie had handed her.

"Not until one has passed weeks and months in the saddle at a time does
one thoroughly realize what riding means, or appreciate the worth and
companionship of a horse." She paused, and a look of longing came into
her large, lustrous eyes, as the memory of her early life came back to
her, when she, with her people, roamed free through the land.

"_Dios!_ but I have been unhappy ever since you came, Senorita," she
resumed, changing the subject abruptly and addressing Blanch. "The
knowledge that you are constantly near him almost drives me mad at
times. And your dresses--they haunt me in my dreams! I never before
imagined that dress was of so much importance in this world." She was so
outspoken and withal so natural, that both Blanch and Bessie burst into
a peal of good-natured laughter in which Chiquita joined.

"We women," she continued, taking another sip of chocolate, "have
nothing to fall back upon except our old antiquated Spanish
costumes--you can imagine what we would look like in the modern clothes
we procured here. I have never been placed in such a ridiculous position
before, and if I only knew that you were as miserable as I am, I think I
might begin to enjoy the humor of the situation." Again all three
laughed.

"Ah, love, what a thing is love!" she sighed, placing her slender gloved
hand over her heart. "It makes one as miserable as it does happy." Then
suddenly turning to Blanch, she asked: "Have you always dressed like
that?"

"I have always tried to live up to a certain standard," replied Blanch.

"And how long have you known him?"

"Oh! a