se
blue-blooded sires that had crossed the ocean with all the luxury of
millionaire passengers, he had been able to exhibit in the concourses
of Buenos Aires animals which were veritable towers of meat, edible
elephants with their sides as fit and sleek as a table.

"That book amounts to something! Don't you think so, Frenchy? It is
worth more than all those pictures of moons, lakes, lovers and other
gewgaws that my Romantica puts on the walls to catch the dust."

And he would point out, in contrast, the precious diplomas which were
adorning his desk, the metal vases and other trophies won in the fairs
by the descendants of his blooded stock.

Luisa, the elder daughter, called Chicha, in the South American fashion,
was much more respected by her father. "She is my poor China right over
again," he said, "the same good nature, and the same faculty for work,
but more of a lady." Desnoyers entirely agreed with him, and yet the
father's description seemed to him weak and incomplete. He could not
admit that the pale, modest girl with the great black eyes and smile
of childish mischief bore the slightest resemblance to the respectable
matron who had brought her into existence.

The great fiesta for Chicha was the Sunday mass. It represented a
journey of three leagues to the nearest village, a weekly contact with
people unlike those of the ranch. A carriage drawn by four horses took
the senora and the two senoritas in the latest suits and hats arrived,
via Buenos Aires, from Europe. At the suggestion of Chicha, Desnoyers
accompanied them in the capacity of driver.

The father remained at home, taking advantage of this opportunity
to survey his fields in their Sunday solitude, thus keeping a
closer oversight on the shiftlessness of his hands. He was very
religious--"Religion and good manners, you know." But had he not given
thousands of dollars toward building the neighboring church? A man
of his fortune should not be submitted to the same obligations as
ragamuffins!

During the Sunday lunch the young ladies were apt to make comments upon
the persons and merits of the young men of the village and neighboring
ranches, who had lingered at the church door in order to chat with them.

"Don't fool yourselves, girls!" observed the father shrewdly. "You
believe that they want you for your elegance, don't you? . . . What
those shameless fellows really want are the dollars of old Madariaga,
and once they had them, they would prob