erjoyed; she evidently thought that she owed him and Garcia
a part of this fortune; even if she kept it, she would feel bound to
consider his interests, and the result of her conscientiousness might be
marriage.

"Let us have no contest with the dead," he replied grandly. "Their wishes
are sacred."

"But Garcia and you are wronged, and I cannot have it so," persisted
Clara.

"How wronged?" demanded Aunt Maria. "I don't see it. Mr. Garcia was only a
cousin, and he is rich enough already."

Coronado, remembering that he and Garcia were bankrupt, wished he could
throw the old lady out of a window.

"Wait," said Clara in a tone of vehement resolution. "Give me time. You
shall see that I am not unjust or ungrateful."

"I beg that you will not bestow a thought upon me," implored the sublime
hypocrite. "Garcia, it is true, may have had claims. I have none."

Aunt Maria walked up to him, squeezed both his hands, and came near
hugging him. Once out of this trial, Coronado could bear no more, but
kissed his fingers to the ladies, hastened to his own room, locked the
door, and swore all the oaths that there are in Spanish, which is no small
multitude.

In a few days after this terrible interview things were going swimmingly
well with him. To keep Clara out of the hands of fortune-hunters, but
ostensibly to enable her to pass her first mourning in decent retirement,
he had induced her to settle in one of Munoz's haciendas, a few miles from
the city, where he of course had her much to himself. He was her adviser;
he was closeted frequently with the executors; he foresaw the time when he
would be the sole manager of the estate; he began to trust that he would
some day possess it. What woman could help leaning upon and confiding in a
man who was so useful, so necessary as Coronado, and who had shown such
unselfish, such magnanimous sentiments?

Meantime the girl was as admirable in reality as the man was in
appearance. Unexpected inheritance of large wealth is almost sure to
alter, at least for a time, and generally for the worse, the manner and
morale of a young person, whether male or female. Conceit or haughtiness
or extravagance or greediness, or some other vice, pretty surely enters
into either deportment or conduct. If this girl was changed at all by her
great good fortune, she was changed for the better. She had never been
more modest, gentle, affable, and sensible than she was now. The fact
shows a clearness of mind