happily, she did not even suspect. But he quickly recovered himself
and said, with something of bitterness in his voice, "I should be more
afraid if it really were a man."

"Oh, thank you, Dick!"

Her lips parted in a smile of relief; the color came faintly back to her
cheek.

A wild thought crossed his fancy that seemed an inspiration. They would
share the risks alike. He leaned towards her: their lips met in their
first kiss.

"Oh, Dick!"

"Dearest!"

"I think--we are saved."

"Why?"

"It wasn't at all like that."

He smiled as she flew swiftly down the corridor. Perhaps he thought so
too.

*****

No picture of the alleged Rosita was ever found. Dona Felipa, when the
story was again referred to, smiled discreetly, but was apparently too
preoccupied with the return of Don Jose's absent nephew for further
gossiping visits to the hacienda; and Dick and Cecily, as Mr. and Mrs.
Bracy, would seem to have survived--if they never really solved--the
mystery of the Hacienda de los Osos. Yet in the month of June, when the
moon is high, one does not sit on the stone bench in the rose garden
after the last stroke of the Angelus.

CHU CHU.

I do not believe that the most enthusiastic lover of that "useful and
noble animal," the horse, will claim for him the charm of geniality,
humor, or expansive confidence. Any creature who will not look you
squarely in the eye--whose only oblique glances are inspired by fear,
distrust, or a view to attack; who has no way of returning caresses, and
whose favorite expression is one of head-lifting disdain, may be "noble"
or "useful," but can be hardly said to add to the gayety of nations.
Indeed it may be broadly stated that, with the single exception of
gold-fish, of all animals kept for the recreation of mankind the
horse is alone capable of exciting a passion that shall be absolutely
hopeless. I deem these general remarks necessary to prove that my
unreciprocated affection for "Chu Chu" was not purely individual or
singular. And I may add that to these general characteristics she
brought the waywardness of her capricious sex.

She came to me out of the rolling dust of an emigrant wagon, behind
whose tailboard she was gravely trotting. She was a half-broken colt--in
which character she had at different times unseated everybody in the
train--and, although covered with dust, she had a beautiful coat, and
the most lambent gazelle-like eyes I had ever seen. I think she ke