d shrink and wither, and in a few
years she would be but a polished shell, perfect of proportion, hollow
at the core.

But if strong intellectual juices sank into that sweet, pliant kernel,
developing it into the perfected form of woman, establishing the
current between the brain and the passions, finishing the work, or
leaving it half completed, as Circumstance vouchsafed?--what then?

"Ay, Senor!" exclaimed Prudencia, as two people, mounted on horses
glistening with silver, galloped into the court-yard. "Valencia and
Adan!"

I came out of the sala at that moment and watched them alight: Adan,
that faithful, dog-like adorer, of whose kind every beautiful woman
has a half-dozen or more, Valencia the bitter-hearted rival of
Chonita. She was a tall, dazzling creature, with flaming black eyes
large and heavily lashed, and a figure so lithe that she seemed to
sweep downward from her horse rather than spring to the ground. She
had the dark rich skin of Mexico--another source of envy and hatred,
for the Iturbi y Moncadas, like most of the aristocracy of the
country, were of pure Castilian blood and as white as porcelain in
consequence--and a red full mouth.

"Welcome, my Chonita!" she cried. "_Valgame Dios!_ but I am glad to
see thee back!" She kissed Chonita effusively. "Ay, my poor brother!"
she whispered, hurriedly. "Tell him that thou art glad to see him."
And then she welcomed me with words that fell as softly as rose-leaves
in a zephyr, and patted Prudencia's head.

Chonita, with a faint flush on her cheek, gave Adan her hand to kiss.
She had given this faithful suitor little encouragement, but his
unswerving and honest devotion had wrung from her a sort of careless
affection; and she told me that first night in Monterey that if she
ever made up her mind to marry she thought she would select Adan: he
was more tolerable than any one she knew. It is doubtful if he had
crossed her mind since; and now, with all a woman's unreason, she
conceived a sudden and violent dislike for him because she had treated
him too kindly in her thoughts. I liked Adan Menendez; there was
something manly and sure about him,--the latter a restful if not a
fascinating quality. And I liked his appearance. His clear brown eyes
had a kind direct regard. His chin was round, and his profile a little
thick; but the gray hair brushed up and away from his low forehead
gave dignity to his face. His figure was pervaded with the indolence
of the Cali