TWO LITTLE MAIDS; 
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 
 
 AND 
 
 CONCHITA; 
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGUERITE LOUISE VERDIER. 
 
 WILLIAM L. ALLISON COMPANY, 
 
 54 WARREN STREET,
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the 
 
 Year 1894, by 
 
 MARGUERITE LOUISE VERDIER, 
 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress 
 
 at Washington, D. C.
 
 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " All the world's a stage." STiaTcespeare. 
 
 "I CAN stand it no longer !" I exclaim in despair. 
 1 I shall do something desperate !" 
 
 "Well, dear girl," returns Bess, "no action of 
 yours, no matter how outrageous, could render us 
 more wretched. I hope Uncle Nelson's shade is 
 properly ashamed of itself for treating you so shab- 
 bily." " 
 
 "Yes," I answer plaintively, "after being 
 afflicted with such an unfeminine name, I certainly 
 deserved a nice lot of money at his death. However, 
 I cannot and will not stand Uncle Greyson's whims 
 much longer." 
 
 Bess hugs her knees affectionately as she remarks 
 reflectively, "Yes, I believe he grows worse every 
 day. Did you notice how he ' cleared ' poor Auntie 
 down at breakfast, and how he scowled at every 
 thing on the table ?" 
 
 " Oh I could stand that if he would only behave 
 when company is here. I really believe he throws 
 those horrid shoes with his whole force, and I know 
 his throat is sore from hard scraping. Visitors are 
 
 2134046
 
 2 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 my terror ; the torture begins with their entrance 
 and continues long after their departure." 
 
 "Would you not like to teach him company 
 manners ?" 
 
 " I would indeed. Nothing would give me keener 
 joy than to become his wife for one week. He 
 would rightly appreciate poor Auntie when I fin- 
 ished with him. But to the point how can we 
 girls support ourselves ? I can perform 011 several 
 instruments, paint and nurse the sick. Surely one 
 .of these accomplishments should prove lucrative." 
 
 " And I " laughs my sister, "understand nothing 
 save housekeeping. Therefore, unless I procure the 
 position of cook, I have no possible way of making 
 money. I have lived with Uncle long enough to 
 become accustomed to his ways ; but it is hard on 
 you. Really, though, he is not so bad when you 
 understand just how to slip around his little 
 angles." 
 
 "There is the difficulty. I never know when I 
 tread on forbidden ground and am in constant terror 
 of raising a storm. How was I to know, when I 
 remarked that the Johnstons were nice people, that 
 he objected to nice in that particular sense ? Dearly 
 as I love talking I would gladly refrain in his pres- 
 ence." 
 
 " But that only rouses his indignation. We must 
 talk whether we wish to or not." 
 
 "Well," I continue, "my mind is fixed. I shall 
 advertise for employment. By the way, where i ; 
 the Times-Union? I will look it over for the sal. o 
 of Auld Lang Syne." 
 
 " Oh, would it not be lovely to spend the winter 
 in Florida ? You have been there so often, but I, 
 poor creature here is the paper. Oh, if you could
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 3 
 
 only find an advertisement from some wealthy old 
 lady who desires a housekeeper and companion to 
 ;; -company her to that sunny land! Suppose you 
 road the ' ads ' aloud for my benefit." 
 
 " ' Wanted a boy to sweep out store and carry par- 
 cels. Terms $3. 00 per week. Apply at No. Bay St." 
 
 "How does that suit?" 
 
 "Oh go on!" 
 
 "'Wanted a good wet nurse. Terms liberal. 
 Apply at this office.' ' 
 
 Bess shakes her head. 
 
 "Well, how is this?" 
 
 " ' A young man of pleasing address would like to 
 correspond with a young lady matrimonially in- 
 clined. Will exchange photos. Address X. Y. Z. 
 box, No. 4.'" 
 
 " Not even his photo would tempt me," she says 
 mournfully. 
 
 " Ah !" I cry, " I have found it I" 
 
 "My old lady?" 
 
 "No. Listen." 
 
 "'Wanted a young man of good education, to 
 teach a mixed school. Terms $75 per month. Ap- 
 ply to Peter Schneider, M , Fla.' ' 
 
 "Now, Bess, that's the very thing. I shall ad- 
 dress 'Peter Schneider ' by the next mail." 
 
 "But, dear girl, you are not a young man." 
 
 "Certainly not, you little innocent; but perhaps 
 my masculine appellation will assist me. My writ- 
 ing, you remember, is large and manish; at any 
 rate, we shall have some fun. Now do not mention 
 this to either Uncle or Aunt until we hear from our 
 lovely Dutchman. 
 
 "You may fool the lovely Dutchman, but you 
 dare not face him in petticoats."
 
 4 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Oh well, we shall wait for his answer. Shall I 
 ask if he needs a housekeeper?" 
 
 "No. I am sure he is a comfortable farmer, 
 reveling in the charms of a red faced Frau and a 
 housefull of children. But I do not know just 
 where M is. Go on ; I shall find it." 
 
 I write my letter and return to the sitting-room. 
 Bess still bends anxiously over the map of Florida. 
 
 "I can not find it," she says dismally, "I believe 
 it is a hoax." 
 
 "Nonsense!" I cry, indignantly. "Look in the 
 southwest, far down, near the Everglades. It is 
 either on a river or the coast." 
 
 "Why," she says in surprise, "how do you know 
 so much about it ? Were you ever there ?" 
 
 "No, but Uncle Nelson and I met a young fellow 
 last winter who was just from there. He gave 
 such glowing accounts of the hunting and fishing 
 that we really started, but found, before reaching 
 there, the place had no hotel accommodations, so 
 
 turned back. See, here is M on the C river, 
 
 not very far from its mouth. Come, let us post our 
 letter before dinner." 
 
 "I tell you Nel, if anything does come of that let- 
 ter, we'll have a most terrific time with Uncle. 
 You'll have to tell him." 
 
 "Very well, I'm not afraid of him; he knows it 
 too, and respects me accordingly."
 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " He is happy whose circumstances suit his temper ; he Is more excel- 
 lent who can suit his temper to any circumstances." Hume. 
 
 WE have posted our letter and are returning 
 home, when Bess exclaims : 
 
 " By all that is disagreeable, here comes my de- 
 voted admirer Frank King ! Hold the umbrella 
 more that way, so he will not recognize us. I would 
 not have him walk home with us for anything 
 under the sun." 
 
 "Why? I thought him rather nice." 
 
 "Yes," hurriedly adjusting the umbrella, "he is 
 all that and much more ; but Auntie has a hobby 
 for inviting people to dinner, and I know there is 
 not a particle of meat ' to set before the King ' 
 Uncle's latest crank." 
 
 We almost run, but despite our greatest efforts, a 
 merry voice calls after us : 
 
 "Stop a moment, Miss Bessie ! I never thought 
 you would slight an old friend. I am convinced you 
 were trying to evade me. Come, you may as well 
 confess, for I shall never believe the contrary." 
 
 Mr. King has reached us, and is looking quizzically 
 into my sister's blushing face. 
 
 "I was," she confesses saucily. "When the occa- 
 sion demands it, I always emulate the Father of my 
 country ; though unlike him, I can tell a lie." 
 
 "You astound me !" he cries in mock dismay. 
 "Are all young ladies so proficient?"
 
 6 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Certainly! all can, but few indulge often. 
 Lying, I believe, is a peculiarly masculine gift, per 
 fected by long practice." 
 
 "Little girls should be careful and not say 
 naughty things to their elders. But why did you 
 run from me ?" 
 
 " Shall I tell him, Nel?" 
 
 " Yes. Mr. King will then understand the situa- 
 tion, and like you all the better for being 
 candid." 
 
 " As if that were possible !" he exclaims senti- 
 mentally. 
 
 "Then," says Bess, bravely, "when we get home, 
 and Auntie asks you to stay to dinner, you must 
 have a pressing engagement elsewhere unless, in- 
 deed, you wish literally, to break bread with us. 
 Not the least particle of meat will you have, for 
 Uncle has taken the absurd notion that all anima^ 
 food is injurious, and will not allow it in the house. 
 
 Now then, I hope you are satisfied what are you 
 laughing at ? I must say, you have a strange way 
 of expressing sympathy !" 
 
 "I suppose I should say something to console 
 you," he answers, suppressing his laughter, "but, 
 really, it is so irresistibly funny you must excuse 
 my unseemly mirth." 
 
 "You'd not laugh," retorts Bess, "if you were 
 one of the poor victims." 
 
 "This is certainly a novel experience," he con- 
 tinues, still laughing. "Never, in the whole course 
 of my long and eventful career, have I been re- 
 quested to decline an invitation. Really, young 
 ladies, you are too hard on me." 
 
 ' We are your friends, young man," 
 
 "I have half a mind to accept."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 7 
 
 " Then suffer the consequences of your own rash- 
 ness!" 
 
 " Is it meet and right that you 
 
 "It is not meat. I have told you it is neither 
 seen, smelt nor tasted in our house." 
 
 " Then, if we become too ravenous, a little canni- 
 balism should be allowed. I propose that Uncle 
 shall become the first victim. ' 
 
 "Yes," remarks Bess, "it certainly would be 
 sweet to crunch his old bones. But" with an 
 alarmed expression "would he not be awfully 
 tough ? You know he is not so young as he has 
 been." 
 
 " When desperate through hunger, we never fret 
 about trifles. But I have heard, that a ' pinch of 
 soda ' rubbed over tough meat, had a wonderfully 
 tendering effect." 
 
 "Oh, there is Auntie I hope she didn't hear our 
 nonsense." 
 
 We had reached the gate near which Auntie was 
 cutting flowers. 
 
 She is a sweet, gentle little woman, much too 
 weak to struggle against the stern realities of 
 Uncle's whims. 
 
 On seeing us, she came forward, shook hands 
 with our escort, and gave the much talked of invi- 
 tation. 
 
 With one wicked glance at Bess, he politely ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 "Nel," says Auntie, as in advance of the others 
 we enter the house, "will you arrange a bouquet for 
 the table, you have such taste but dear me, 1 so 
 wish we had even a small piece of meat ; but your 
 Uncle is so very peculiar. Do you think, dear, that 
 we need any thing extra?"
 
 8 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " I think not. But what have you ?" 
 
 " There is soup, potatoes, egg-plant, okra, toma- 
 toes, rice, light rolls, corn-bread, buttermilk, and 
 cream and peaches." 
 
 " 'A feast for the gods ' " quote I. " But you do 
 need, and shall have both soup-plates and napkins." 
 
 "Oh, my dear child, I am so afraid your Uncle 
 will make a scene you know how he objects to 
 both." 
 
 "I will bear the blame. You know how mortified 
 Bess would feel to compel her admirer to wipe his 
 mustache on the table cloth." 
 
 Our dinner bell rings at twelve sharp. The last 
 sound is still vibrating through the house, when 
 Uncle seats himself and begins eating. 
 
 He is a dark, stern man, upon whose face is 
 stamped an expression of chronic discontent. 
 
 "My dear," says Auntie, one eye nervously re- 
 garding the door, the other fixed anxiously upon 
 his face, "Young King is here." 
 
 "D d if I care!" retorts her lord. "If you 
 
 choose to ask every young jackanapes in the coun- 
 try to waste his time by lounging here, you can do 
 the polite yourself. I'll be dogged if hello, King ! 
 Waiting for you, you see. I make a point of always 
 being on time, and wait for no one. Help yourself; 
 you have more time than I." 
 
 And he proceeds again to gobble. 
 
 Bess, on seeing her napkin, gives me one grateful 
 look, then adroitly slips it into her lap without 
 attracting undue attention. 
 
 Mr. King, however, quite unconscious of the 
 wrath to come, unfolds his in such a leisurely man- 
 ner, that the evil eye is fixed upon him. 
 
 "What /ooZ" exclaims our ogre, "put these
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 
 
 cussed things on the table ?" and before any of us 
 could utter a word, he seized the nearest napkin, 
 ring and all, and flung it violently across the room. 
 Poor Auntie looked as if she would cry. She 
 gulped it down, however, and bit her lips. 
 
 "Uncle," I say, looking him calmly in the eye, "I 
 arranged the table, and am accountable for all objec- 
 tionable articles. You remember our agreement." 
 "Yes, yes;" he answers hurriedly, " do as you 
 please, only give up that fool notion of working for 
 yourself. This young lady, King, wants to teach, 
 nurse or do anything to render herself independent 
 of cross old Uncle." 
 
 "Why not?" asks the young man, " Girls are far 
 more happy when usefully occupied. 
 
 "Tut, tut ! utter nonsense ! Now see here, would 
 you allow your sister, if you had one, to make her 
 her own living?" 
 
 "If I had a dozen sisters, each should follow the 
 occupation for which she felt best fitted. Why, 
 
 my cousin, Ida F is considered one of the finest 
 
 surgeons in the State. Dr. S you know his 
 
 reputation won't perform a difficult operation 
 without her assistance." 
 
 "Humph! I've heard of her exceptional case. 
 Few women could do it. Too nervous and hyster- 
 ical. My wife, there, faints at the sight of blood 
 a pretty surgeon she would make ! 
 
 No, sir, women had better keep in their own 
 sphere, and let men's alone ! A rare exception only 
 proves the rule. But I cannot sit here and talk all 
 day ; I have my work to do." 
 
 Out he stalks, leaving three crushed and deeply 
 mortified females, and one amused though gravely 
 polite male.
 
 10 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Excuse me," falters Auntie, rising to escape, 
 " I hear the cat in the pantry.'' 
 
 " You wretch !" cries Bess, turning her angry 
 eyes upon our guests. " Oh, how I wish he had 
 slung it at you !" 
 
 " Thank you." he returns witli a laugh, " This is 
 altogether, the most delightfully unique affair I 
 ever attended. Do you have such treats every day, 
 or does he reserve himself for strangers?" 
 "Can you not see that she is really distressed ?" I 
 ask indignantly. 
 
 "Miss Bessie," he begs, now quite contrite, "for- 
 give me." You know, 'to err is human.' ' 
 
 "But," she retorts from the half closed door,"as I 
 am far from divine, I will get even with you, or my 
 name is not Bessie Kieth !"
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "We must take the current when it serves, 
 Or lose our ventures " Shakespeare. 
 
 MORE than two weeks have passed since we 
 mailed my letter to Peter Schneider, and our 
 anxiety for an answer increases with Uncle's cranks. 
 Poor fellow ! I believe he developes a new one every 
 day. Now, Uncle is not a bad man; yet he manages to 
 make himself and all around him hopelessly un- 
 happy. I sometimes think if Auntie and himself 
 were more congenial, life would be more endurable; 
 but as they have no tastes in common and many 
 that clash, our domestic calm is often disturbed. 
 To be sure, Auntie yields, though never without a 
 struggle ; and broods continually over her 
 "wrongs." Had she asserted herself in the begin- 
 ning, they would now, in all probability, be reason- 
 ably happy. 
 
 But now, with neither love or respect for each 
 other, they are merely struggling through a miser- 
 able existence. 
 
 I never knew them intimately until last May 
 when Uncle Nelson died. Uncle Nelson was 
 Father's brother ; he adopted me when my parents, 
 stricken with that fell destroyer, small pox, died 
 within an hour of each other. 
 
 He treated me in all respects as a well loved 
 daughter, and spoke of me always as his heiress. 
 
 On his death, however, the only will found was
 
 12 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 one made before my birth, in which he left every 
 thing to a Scotch cousin. 
 
 John Brownlow, Uncle Nelson's lawyer, swore 
 that he had drawn up a will in my favor, had seen 
 it signed and duly attested, but we never found it. 
 
 He wrote these facts to my Scotch cousin, propos- 
 ing to divide the property, and received the follow- 
 ing answer : 
 
 " JOHN BROWNLOW, Attorney at Law. 
 
 Dear Sir, My cousin can expect nothing from 
 me. Had my Uncle wished her to inherit any por- 
 tion of his property, he would undoubtedly, have 
 left his later will in a convenient place. "His failure 
 to do so, bespeaks, to my mind, a regret for the 
 money already lavished upon her. I am, sir, 
 Yours with respect, 
 
 ALAN DOUGLAS KIETH, 
 
 Aberdeen, Scotland, May 25, 18." 
 
 Life looked dark, indeed when Uncle Greyson, 
 mother's brother, came to take me to his mountain 
 home. "Bessie has been with us these fifteen 
 years," he said kindly, "and when you join us, the 
 family will be complete." 
 
 Both he and Auntie are very kind (in their own 
 peculiar way) but the life is too cramped, and so 
 terribly embittered. Yes, I must work out my own 
 destiny, be it good or bad. 
 
 Ah, there comes Bess, just from the post-office. 
 
 "Come out," she calls. "I have something for 
 you." 
 
 "The letter ?" I ask eagerly. 
 
 "Yes, the precious letter," she replies, handing it 
 to me. 
 
 "Did you ever see such strange writing? I 
 seriously doubt your ability to read it."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 
 
 It is peculiar, but as I answered most of Uncle 
 Nelson's letters, I feel well versed in hieroglyphics. 
 This, however, is the oddest I have ever seen. 
 
 M , Fla., Aug. 18, 18. 
 
 " MR. NELSON KIETH : 
 
 Dere Sur Yo ablikashun for de M scool haf 
 
 been except, und de school mus' pegin mit Oct. 1st. 
 Me always vornt vomans deacher, but de mans tink 
 dot vomans not manage dese pig poys. 
 
 You got vomans coom long mit you und tech 
 music, he pay you mooch little moneys. 
 Yours respeckful, 
 
 PETER SCHNEIDER, Trustee." 
 
 "What a jewel !" cries Bess, clapping her hands 
 " How delighted he will be to find that you are 
 'vomans.' Dear old fellow, I feel like embracing 
 him!" 
 
 "Wait till you see him," I return with a laugh. 
 ''He may not prove a pleasant subject for such 
 demonstrations. Then, again, his Frau might 
 object." 
 
 "Why, this is the 10th of September," says Bess. 
 " Have they any railroads in Florida, or is the mail 
 carried on foot?" 
 
 "Not many," I return, "but this letter has prob- 
 ably missed connection. It will not require more 
 than a week to make the journey. And now, the 
 unpleasant task of telling Uncte must be gotten 
 over. I know he will fret but we can endure any 
 thing with the prospect of freedom before us." 
 
 " But he will make our lives a burden, till we go," 
 returns Bess. 
 
 And he did. Weeping, wailing and gnashing of 
 teeth prevailed. So great was his wrath that, after
 
 14 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 belaboring the hands, who were entirely innocent, 
 bringing Aunty and Bess to tears, he positively re- 
 fused to speak to me, "the ungrateful young 
 woman " he had taken to his heart and home in the 
 hour of her distress. Long and furiously raged the 
 
 storm; but, like Joey B 1 am "tough sir, tough, 
 
 ilcrilish tough," so stood safe on the good rock 
 Determination, while the angry waves of passion 
 swept o'er our troubled sea. 
 
 Finding that his rage only strengthened my re- 
 solve, he declared he would wash his hands of the 
 entire affair, and if I got into serious trouble before 
 the winter ended, I need expect no assistance from 
 him. 
 
 Though we knew poor Auntie would miss us far 
 more than Uncle, she said privately (she dared not 
 in his presence) that she did not blame us for going. 
 
 "I know," she sighed plaintively, "it will be sim- 
 ply delightful to do and say just what you please. 
 I wish I were going too." 
 
 " Do !" cries Bess, " what fun we would have !" 
 
 "Ah!" returns Auntie, your Uncle would never 
 forgive me." 
 
 " Why Auntie," I say to cheer her up a little, 
 "when Bess succeeds in captivating the charming 
 Peter, you'll have to come to the wedding." 
 
 "Yes," laughs Bess, "only think of having real 
 orange blossoms to grace the affair ! Isn't it too 
 heavenly ?" 
 
 "I may cut you out," I say teasingly. 
 
 "You indeed? who would look at a dark little 
 object like you, when my pink and white lovelincs 
 is nigh? No, sister mine, 'tis not you 1 fear, 
 but a red faced Frau, and a half dozen little 
 Peters."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 15 
 
 Time passes slowly, but it finally brings the day 
 of our departure. 
 
 Though it may sound heartless to those who wit- 
 nessed Auntie's tears, and Uncle's real sorrow, we 
 thoroughly enjoy our journey. 
 
 I am an old stager, but Bess, who had never before 
 left home, found every thing delightfully novel. 
 
 At Jacksonville, we had what she termed " a real 
 adventure." 
 
 The train was just starting, when two young 
 men, heavily loaded with sundry hunting and fish- 
 ing equipments, jumped aboard and began search- 
 ing for seats. 
 
 Bess and myself had appropriated entire seats, 
 and were just preparing to " make ourselves small," 
 when the young fellow in advance of his companion 
 asked : 
 
 "May I share your seat, Madame?" 
 
 " Certainly." I reply. " Or, better still, I will re- 
 turn to my sister and give place to your friend." 
 
 Both gentlemen bow, and thank me, then stow 
 themselves and belongings just in front of us. 
 
 " Are they not handsome ? whispers Bess. 
 
 "I don't know," I answer. "I hardly looked at 
 them." 
 
 "What a pity!" she exclaims. "Both blondes, 
 and the one that spoke has the sweetest mustache 
 true gold. Can't you make him turn around?" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "So you can see it." she returns innocently. 
 
 "Very well," I answer much amused. "Which 
 is he?" 
 
 "The one just opposite you." Leaning forward, 
 I touch him with my fan. He looks around inquir- 
 ingly.
 
 16 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Hand me my bag, please." 
 
 "Your bag?" he says in a puzzled way. 
 
 " Yes, my hand bag. It is in the rack see ?" 
 
 I see now, he is a remarkably handsome man. 
 
 "Ah, excuse my stupidity," he exclaims, show- 
 ing his fine white teeth. 
 
 "Thank you." I reply, and pick up my novel. 
 He turns, and begins conversing with his friend. 
 
 ' Don't you think so ?" asks my sister. 
 
 "Yes," I answer. "Now, dear girl, as you will 
 
 see very little of interest between here and P , I 
 
 would seriously advise a novel." 
 
 "No, indeed," says Bess. 
 
 "'The proper study of wo-mankind is man'; 
 therefore I shall devote myself to the two in front." 
 
 The strangers are kind, though unobtrusive. 
 
 I incidentally mention having traveled the road 
 before, when one of them he of the hand-bag 
 says appealingly, "Then, you should take us poor 
 innocents under your wing, for we are * strangers, 
 in a strange land.' ' 
 
 "I am sorry to disappoint you," I return, calmly 
 clipping my magazine leaves, "but I never could 
 like Englishmen." 
 
 " You. have no excuse ;" he laughs. 
 
 "Ah, that makes a difference. I am partly 
 Scotch, and love anything everything pertaining to 
 the dear old country Scotch songs, Scotch legends, 
 even Scotch dialect and Scotch plaids !" 
 
 "And may one hope you include Scotch men?" 
 he inquires anxiously. 
 
 "How far are you going?" I hear Bess ask the 
 other gentleman. 
 
 "I don't know," he returns. "We meet our 
 yacht just here," indicating some spot on his rail-
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 17 
 
 road map, ''and will cruise around the southern 
 coast all winter." 
 
 " How lovely ! So you meet your yacht at P ? 
 
 Isn't that where we take the steamer, Nel?" 
 
 "Yes," I answer in a non-commital way, giving 
 her a warning glance ; for I do not care to discuss 
 our affairs with perfect strangers. 
 
 On we go, passing little towns and orange groves, 
 pine trees and saw palmetto. Now and then, a 
 beautiful "bay-head" with large, moss-draped 
 trees, greets our sight ; and, as we proceed farther 
 south, an occasional cluster of cabbage palms break 
 the monotony. 
 
 Every thing is oppressively still almost no sign 
 of life, save at the little stations. 
 
 Surely we are going to the unlocated "jumping 
 off place of creation." As we near our destination, 
 the stranger nearest me remarks : " As we shall 
 probably see more of each other, suppose we intro- 
 duce ourselves." handing me his card. 
 
 " ' Alan Douglas Kieth?' ' I exclaim in surprise. 
 
 " From Aberdeen ?" 
 
 "Yes. Permit me to introduce my friend: Ken- 
 neth Lindsey, Miss ." 
 
 "Kieth," I return coldly. "My sister, Miss Bessie 
 Kieth, Mr. Kieth; Mr. Lindsey." 
 
 "Can it be" exclaims Bess, "that we are 
 cousins ?" 
 
 " Let us hope so," returns Mr. Kieth with a smile. 
 
 " Ah here we are, at last," as the train stopped at 
 the miserable apology for a depot. 
 
 " Can we assist you ?" 
 
 "Thank you;" I reply freezingly "the conductor 
 will assist us. Conductor/' as that official passes, 
 " You will help us oft ;"'
 
 18 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Certainly,, ma'am," he answers politely, "cer- 
 tainly. I thought you were all one party," he 
 gathers our numerous packages and escorts us to 
 the only hotel in P . 
 
 "Why were you so rude to those delightful 
 Scotchmen?" asks Bess, as we wash our blackened 
 faces. 
 
 " Why you little goose, do you not know that he 
 is our mean Scotch cousin? He is Alan Douglas 
 Kieth of Aberdeen." 
 
 " Oh, 1 had not thought of that ! Well, they are 
 awfully nice, and I am glad we did not discover the 
 relationship sooner." 
 
 We enter the dining-room, and are shown to the 
 same table at which are seated the now obnoxious 
 Scotchmen. They look annoyed, though amused." 
 
 "We seem fated to meet," remarks my cousin, 
 rising to withdraw. "But, as this is the only 
 hotel " 
 
 " It is of no consequence." I interrupt coldly. 
 
 "Have I offended in any way?" he asks politely. 
 
 " You should be most likely to know," I answer 
 more frigidly, becoming much absorbed in my sup- 
 per. 
 
 "Really, Miss Kieth, it is unjust to condemn 
 without a hearing." 
 
 "Unjust!" 1 cry indignantly. You call me un- 
 just?" 
 
 "I fail to see the necessity for such sarcasm," he 
 says, with much dignity. 
 
 "Then, drop the subject," I reply, "and oblige 
 me by forgetting we ever met." 
 
 "When ladies command, there is but one course 
 for gentlemen/' he answers, quitting the room,
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " There's nothing in a 
 
 F?ARLY next morning we are aroused with the 
 f~L information, " Your boat is nigh about ready 
 ter start, ma'am." 
 
 " Very well ; " I return as I spring from my bed. 
 " we will breakfast on board. Return in ten min- 
 utes, for our baggage." 
 
 Dressing hurriedly, we pay our bill, then follow 
 the porter to the end of a long wooden pier. He had 
 just assisted us aboard of a beautiful little naphtha 
 launch, when, to my disgust, Mr. Kieth appears, po- 
 lite surprise, not unmixed with amusement, depicted 
 on his handsome face. 
 
 " I've brought your ladies, at last, sir," says the 
 obsequious servant. 
 
 " Is this the steamer for M ? " I ask, over- 
 powered by a sickening certainty of our blunder. 
 
 " No, ma'am. There she lies," pointing to a small, 
 ungraceful propeller, " Leaves at six o'clock." 
 
 " Then," I contiued indignantly, " you have blun- 
 dered unpardonably ! Convey our luggage aboard 
 we will breakfast at the hotel." 
 
 " Im sorry, Miss, I thought 'twas all one party. 
 The name you know 
 
 " Go ! " I exclaim, wrathfully. 
 
 "Believe me, Miss Kieth," begins my enemy, " I 
 regret exceedinsrlv "
 
 20 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " Tis nothing," I interrupt, " I am justly provoked 
 at losing my beauty sleep. Come Bess." 
 
 " But, having been roused at this ungodly hour, 
 will you not share our breakfast? We are jm; ', 
 crossing to the yacht." 
 
 "What a beauty !" exclaims Bess, gazing with 
 admiration to where the graceful vessel lay anchored 
 in deep water. 
 
 " Do say yes, Nel ! " 
 
 " Eat my enemy's salt ? " I cry. 
 
 " Your enemy ? " he repeats, in seeming amaze. 
 "You speak in parables. How, when, and where 
 have I injured you ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, we are very innocent, too innocent ! " I 
 reply scornfully, and placing my hand through 
 Be'ssie's arm, walk her back to the hotel. 
 
 " By all that is mysterious I " I hear him mutter, 
 " what can she mean ? " 
 
 "You know, Nel," says Bess, "I cannot think him 
 so mean. He does not look a bit stingy ; now, does 
 he?" 
 
 "No," I confess, grudgingly. "He really has a 
 fine face." ' 
 
 " Then why not treat him decently ? He might 
 fall in love with one of us, and then we would get 
 back the money." 
 
 " Do you think I could forgive that unmanly let- 
 ter? No ! if he begged me on his knees to accept 
 half of the fortune I would spurn it ! " 
 
 "Himself included ? " 
 
 " Certainly ! " 
 
 " You will never get a handsomer man," warn- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Wait," I laugh "till he makes the munificent 
 offer. We probably, have seen the last of him.''
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 21 
 
 We spend the day upon the " Okeechobee," and 
 towards evening arrive at our destination. It is a 
 straggling village of about fifty houses, charmingly 
 situated on the river C . The first person I no- 
 tice upon the wharf, is a little blond man, whose 
 long bushy, red beard, and loud, commanding 
 voice are calculated to attract attention. " That," I 
 remark to Bess, " is our Peter. I know his accent." 
 
 "Now for some fun, ".she laughs. On he jumps, 
 true sailor fashion, and inquires loudly for "a 
 young feller mit the name of Kiet ?" 
 
 Stepping forward, closely followed by my laugh- 
 ing sister, I remark coolly: "I am Nelson Kieth. 
 Are you Mr. Peter Schneider, trustee for M ?" 
 
 "I" with a proud toss of his head, "is Captain 
 Peter Schneider. But you I tought you was mans ! 
 Veil, veil, me glad ; vomans, me like petter mooch 
 petter !" with a delighted smile. 
 
 "I was named for an uncle; I explain, "finding 
 you really prefered a lady, I decided to come. If, 
 however, I fail to conduct the school to your satis- 
 faction, I will leave " 
 
 "No, you doand !" he exclaims. "Me like you 
 mooch, already. You got pooty cheek you do ! 
 Dis my town, dis my school 1 haf vomans teacher 
 if I vont him. Mans too mooch rough, he teach 
 gearls nottings bout dress, en how make goot 
 vomans bime by. Now, den, you see?" 
 
 " Yes.' ! I answer, much amused. "Let me intro- 
 duce my sister." 
 
 "Vot!" he cries, "Two vomans? Goot! Mans, 
 ve got blenty ; vomans, too little bit !" 
 
 " Well, Captain Schneider, have you secured us a 
 good boarding place ?" 
 
 " Vy, you see," looking puzzled, "me tought you
 
 22 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 was mans, en would bach mit me, in my house. 
 Boardin' house, we not got him oh me got him ! 
 I tek you to Mees Keyson. Se do every tings f or 
 iu<\ I petter varn you dough, bout Mees Keyson 
 se vot you call jalous. Se not like vomans talk too 
 mooch to her mans. See ? 
 
 "Thank you," I return as gravely as possible. 
 "We shall be careful." 
 
 Most of the houses are small, rough buildings, 
 surrounded by a luxurious tropical growth. 
 
 "Wight over dare," say the voluble Peter, "ish 
 de school-house." We look, and behold a neatly 
 painted two story building shaded by grand moss 
 draped oaks. 
 
 " Why, Captain," I say in surprise, have I so 
 many pupils ?" 
 
 " Veil, not just yet; but de geographical sitiva- 
 tion ob de town is bound to increase de poperlation ! 
 Wid dis fine river communication, dis splendid 
 splendid climate, and my boat to tek de passengers, 
 dis place is boun' to be de greatest helt resort in de 
 State." 
 
 The warmer he waxes, the louder and higher be- 
 comes his voice. 
 
 " So, 'twas your boat we came on ?" asks Bess. 
 " Are you her Captain ?" 
 
 "Yes. I des lay off dis trip to fix de school house 
 for Monday. No odder mans in de place " proudly 
 "could put dot organ to pieces already." 
 
 " So you have an organ in school !" I cry delight- 
 edly. 
 
 "I mooch glad you blay. Music, I lofe him! he 
 fill me oop so mooch dot I can eat nottings ! He 
 make me happy dill I hurt, an I gry blenty tears !" 
 
 "Do you play?" 1 as 1 ;, deeply interested.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 23 
 
 " Zome times ven I all lone by mine zelf . 
 
 Neffer, I blay for no boddies dare ish mine 
 
 house," pointing to a neat three-roomed cottage, 
 i i most hidden by the large orange trees about it. 
 
 "We thought," says Bess, with a laugh, "that 
 you were married and had a large family." 
 
 "No," he says, a look of sadness creeping over 
 his jolly old face. " Vomans ish not for me. Me 
 got little dog," stooping to caress the little black 
 and tan that trotted affectionately by his side. 
 
 Finally, we reach a double pen log cabin, where 
 Mrs. Keyson, a tall ungainly woman, after listen- 
 ing in stolid silence to the captain's request, "reek- 
 ins " she can take us. 
 
 " Den," says Peter, " I vill be up after supper. 
 " You kin stay ef you're a mind ter remarks our 
 hostess indifferently. "I've a big pan of clabber 
 fer supper." 
 
 Clabber was evidently an attraction, for the 
 trustee resumed his seat. 
 
 We repair to the "gallery" and he entertains us 
 with his funny talk about " my town, my boat, my 
 school," etc. But he is well informed despite his 
 peculiar pronunciation, and great admiration of the 
 personal pronoun. How came he, I wonder, in this 
 out of the way settlement, trying to civilize a lot of 
 "crackers?" 
 
 He informs us that he had, ten years ago, home- 
 steaded one hundred and sixty acres, the very land 
 
 011 which M now stands ; laid out the " city," 
 
 giving away every alternate lot to " increase de 
 poperlation ; " built the school-house, which was 
 used also for church purposes ; ran the only steam- 
 boat and owned the only store in the settlement. 
 
 " Vere ish de poys ? " he asks as we begin supper.
 
 24 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " In the woods," answers Mrs. Keyson. 
 
 " In the woods ? " asks Bess, bewildered. 
 
 " Yes, gathering cattle for shipment." She ac- 
 cents the last syllable. 
 
 " Have you much cattle ? I didn't know this was 
 a grazing country." 
 
 "Yes, there's right smart about here. Our stock 
 is only sixty thousand, but old Jedge Simmons has 
 a hundred an' fifty thousand." 
 
 Surely, I think, the owner of so much cattle can 
 afford a better house than this. 
 
 " When," I ask, " will your husband return ? " 
 
 "To-morrow, may be. The boys 'lowed they'd 
 try the new teacher a while but I don't know as 
 they'll keer to go to you, bein' as you're a women.' 
 
 This is hardly encouraging, but I determine to be 
 brave. 
 
 " Captain," I say, inspired with a happy thought, 
 " have you ever studied English from text books ? " 
 
 " No, your ladyship. I haf neffer got von goot 
 teacher." 
 
 " Then," I beg, " let me teach you perhaps the 
 pupils will look with more respect on a woman that 
 instructs their trustee." 
 
 " Vot schmart litle dings se ish ! " he cries with a 
 laugh. " Me neffer tinks of him. Alride, ve pegins 
 mit Monday nights." 
 
 "Thank you so much." 
 
 ' No, me tanks you," he returns gallantly. 
 
 The next afternoon, about two o'clock, we hear a 
 loud popping of whips, and weird peculiar cries 
 which Mrs. Keyson informs us in the " cow holler." 
 She says if we. remain on the "gallery," we'll see a 
 "likely bunch of cattle pass." 
 
 We waited. I confess my first sight of Florida
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 25 
 
 cattle was disappointing. Compared with Western 
 stock they are no larger than calves ; but, remem- 
 bering that " silence is golden," I hold my tongue. 
 
 A few minutes later three men and a boy strode 
 through the kitchen door. 
 
 " Mrs. Keyson ! " I call, " some one wishes to see 
 you." 
 
 "It's only Pa an' the boys," she returns calmly, 
 opening her door. 
 
 " Well, Pa," she remarks as she enters the dining 
 room where the new comers sit around the empty 
 table. 
 
 " Well Ma," he returns, without moving. Not the 
 slightest caress or hand shake passes between them. 
 Of course I should not have looked, but curiosity 
 overcame manners. 
 
 "Ma," yells the boy, at the top of his voice, "for 
 goodness sake hurry with the grub ! We aint had a 
 mouthful since daylight." 
 
 " Any news, Ma ? " asks another. 
 
 "Nothin'," she replies, as she leisurely places the 
 cold food before them, " 'cept the teacher's come." 
 
 "Well I say it ! When did he come ? Is he old 
 or young ? Does he look cross ? " are some of the 
 questions that burst from them. 
 
 Truly, eavesdroppers never hear good of them- 
 selves; Ma utterly crushed me by replying scornfully, 
 " She aint nuthin' but a girl no bigger than Syd," 
 pointing to the boy. "An* she's stayin' here fer the 
 present, till the ole Captain can make some other 
 arrangement. She an' her sister air on the gallery. 
 I'll call 'em in if you want to see her." 
 
 She starts after us, but " Pa" remarks that they 
 had better " clean " themselves up a little before 
 meeting strangers.
 
 26 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 We beat a hasty retreat, so do not meet them till 
 supper. 
 
 " Pa " is a fine looking man, with kind, intelligent 
 r^rey eyes ; his manners are almost courtly. Frank, 
 the oldest son, greatly resembles him. George and 
 Syd are more like their mother. 
 
 Evidently, " Pa " had married beneath him. 
 
 I discovered later, that Mr. Keyson had been State 
 Senator, paid frequent visits to the outer world, and, 
 after " de Captain," was the leading man of M . 
 
 The boys had been sent to college, but " Ma " 
 grieved so terribly after them, that they would not 
 return, after the first term. 
 
 Pa took a number of papers and magazines, both 
 Frank and himself keeping up with current events; 
 but the other boys, though naturally bright, knew 
 almost nothing but cattle.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "The hand of Douglas is his own." Scott. 
 
 MONDAY morning, much to my surprise, I find 
 a number of grown boys in the schoolroom ; 
 for Captain Peter had reported that, finding me 
 such a learned woman, even he should become my 
 pupil. This kind deception had the desired effect, 
 and my school was unusually large ; so large, in 
 fact, that Peter delights Bess by proposing that she 
 become assistant, " mit de zalarits ob dwenty-vive 
 tollars a mont." 
 
 Teaching, even under favorable circumstances, is 
 not easy ; but, when both pupils .and parents are 
 ignorant and uncouth, it becomes laborious. 
 
 The boys could see no impropriety , in appearing 
 in their shirt-sleeves, neither could I convince my 
 girls that bare feet and untidy dresses were unlady- 
 like. At length, in desperation, I wrote a list of 
 things to be avoided, and offered a prize for " gen- 
 teel manners." 
 
 We had been with Mrs. Keyson two weeks, when 
 the Captain asked if we should like to keep house. 
 Mrs. Keyson positively refused to take us as board- 
 ers, and we could scarcely accept her hospitality a'l 
 winter. 
 
 "I should be charmed," I return, "but where is 
 the house and furniture ? I have not seen even a 
 room to let."
 
 28 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " You haf mine house," he returns with a broad 
 smile. 
 
 " But I could not think of turning you out of house 
 and home." 
 
 " Dot ish nottings. Ven I stay ofer, me sleep mit 
 de store." 
 
 "But all of your things? What will become of 
 them ? " 
 
 " De pooks, de organ und de vurniture me lef mit 
 you. Mine oder traps me stow away mit de 
 schmoke-house. Coom, I lofe you mooch; you haf 
 mine house." 
 
 " Oh, you dear, good man ! How can I thank 
 you ? " 
 
 " It ish nottings," with a little shrug. " You hap- 
 py, den I happy. See ? " 
 
 So we were soon in possession of his cottage ; Bess 
 installed as cook, and de Captain our chief slave. 
 The change was delightful, and our house soon be- 
 came the rendezvous for all music lovers in the 
 neighborhood. Old and young, rich and poor, mar- 
 ried and single, " all sorts and conditions of men," 
 invaded the house. 
 
 De Captain, who is absent three evenings of each 
 week, joins us when in port. 
 
 I had never yet heard him perform, though I know, 
 from his rapt expression when I play, that he is 
 a thorough musician. One evening he is begged for 
 music, but declines to play. 
 
 "You ask him, Miss Kieth," says Mr. Keyson, "I 
 know he will oblige you" 
 
 "I do not understand you, "I return coldly, "How- 
 ever, I can but fail." 
 
 Crossing the room, I say : " Captain will you play 
 for me ? I am so anxious to hear you. Come,
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 29 
 
 please." I must confess, he startled me. Springing 
 up, he grasped my hand, crying excitedly, " Me blay 
 for you ? Yes, me go to hell for you ! " then rush- 
 ing to the organ, his fingers bring forth such deep, 
 rolling thunders that we almost feel the house 
 shake ; by degrees they die away, giving place to a 
 sad, pathetic wail, so exquisitely beautiful that it 
 thrills my very soul. 'Twas so sad, so appealing, 
 the tears would come ; yet so wonderfully sweet I 
 was almost sorry when he gave a brilliant triumphal 
 finale. 
 
 " What is it ? " I ask, I never heard it before.'' 
 
 "Mine life," he answers; as, without a "good- 
 night," he departs. 
 
 Time passes rapidly. Our school improves, our 
 patrons admire us greatly, and the neighborhood re- 
 gards us as queens. 
 
 My only distress is de Captain ; he has fallen mad- 
 ly hi love with my unworthy self, and makes no 
 effort to conceal his infatuation. He tells me openly 
 he " lofes " me, but asks only for friendship. 
 
 He is awfully good to us, and what can I do ? If 
 he was not so childishly sensitive, so painfully jeal- 
 ous, it would be amusing. 
 
 Bess enjoys my discomfiture immensely, and de- 
 clares it serves me right for cutting her out. 
 
 " Nothing happens save the unforeseen," and! en- 
 dorse the proverb, when, towards the end of Octo- 
 ber, de Captain brings our obnoxious fellow travel- 
 ers to visit us. 
 
 "Deyvos f om de Jupean nations," he explains, 
 " und I pring him long to hear some little music. 
 You don't gare ? Eh ? " 
 
 "Certainly not," I return, bowing coldly to my 
 unwelcome guests.
 
 30 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "I am sorry, Miss Kieth," begins my foe, " I had 
 no idea, upon my honor, that you were the angelic 
 creature we were invited to see." 
 
 "Thank you. I have never laid claims to such 
 perfection, and can readily understand your look of 
 bewildered disappointment." 
 
 " Don't be rough on a fellow," he pleads. " Is my 
 presence really disagreeable to you ? " 
 
 " I am your hostess." 
 
 " Shall I go or stay ?" 
 
 "As you like," indifferently. 
 
 "Oh, Mees Nelsonn, "calls our Peter, "Ivos 
 hongry for von leetle song vill you me make 
 happy?" 
 
 Inwardly blessing Peter for this timely interrup- 
 tion, I rise and cross the room. 
 
 "Dot young mans," he whispers, finding me a 
 song, " you know him before you lofe him? ' 
 
 "No, I hate him!" 
 
 " You hate him? Goot," a ring of determination 
 in his voice, " Me kill him for you." 
 
 "No, don't hurt him ! ' I cry in alarm. "I never 
 saw him but once before he is less than nothing to 
 me." 
 
 "Den, how you hate him?" eying me sus- 
 piciously. 
 
 "Oh, I didn't mean but listen, this is your favor- 
 ite." And I throw my whole soul into the deep 
 thrilling notes of " Love's Sorrow." 
 
 One piece follows another, but de Captain stands 
 . guard and monopolizes me the whole evening. 
 
 Bess holds a little court at the other end of tho 
 room, and I see the young Scotchman is quite de- 
 voted. 
 
 Mr. Kieth seats himself at the organ, plays alight
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 31 
 
 running accompaniment, and catching my eye, 
 sings : 
 
 " How can you treat me so ? 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair ! 
 Do you think me still a foe ? 
 Lady fair ! lady fair I 
 
 To all others you are sweet, 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair ! 
 But I am dust beneath your feet, 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair ! 
 
 Do J T OU think such treatment just ? 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair ! 
 Why turn, with such disgust ? 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair ! 
 
 Come, can we not be friends ? 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair ! 
 On you it all depends, 
 
 Lady fair ! lady fair 1" 
 
 His voice is a rich, deep barytone wonderfully 
 attractive. I listen in spite of myself. I know he 
 sings to me, and resent the mean advantage he 
 takes, though I listen with pleasure to his voice. 
 
 "Captain,"! say, in an undertone, " say good- 
 night, please. The others will follow you I am so 
 tired." 
 
 "Good-night," says my enemy, extending his 
 hand. 
 
 "Good-night," I return, my own clasped behind 
 me. 
 
 " May I come again ? " 
 
 " My rooms are open to the public." 
 
 "Will you care to see me ? " 
 
 "No," coldly. 
 
 " Then," in a hurt tone, " I shall not intrude." 
 - " As you like," I return calmly. 
 
 Bess grumbled greatly at my "unchristian con- 
 duct." 
 
 " The v are so handsome," she exclaimed, "and
 
 32 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 have such a lovely yacht, and Mr. Lindsey said 
 they'd be just charmed to take us on a cruise down 
 the coast but of course you won't go. I think it's 
 just hateful of you Nel ! " 
 
 " I thought you had more spirit. Accept their 
 hospitality, indeed ! " 
 
 " Spirit or no spirit," she says with a regretful 
 sigh, " 'twould be lots of fun." 
 
 But " pride goeth before a fall," and the very next 
 day, I was compelled to accept assistance from my 
 hated foe. 
 
 1 had noticed a cluster of orange blossoms near 
 the top of a large tree in the back yard ; and know- 
 ing that seeing it only, could convince Uncle of this 
 freak of nature, determined to mail it that night. 
 
 Bess holds the ladder, while I, scissors in hand, 
 mount to the tree top. Slowly and painfully I make 
 my way ; at last, torn and bleeding I secure the 
 prize, then begin the descent. Imagine my horror 
 to find both Bessie and ladder gone ! 
 
 Loud and long I call, but all in vain. 
 
 At last, the situation becomes monotonous, and 
 raising my voice, which is by no means weak, I 
 scream : 
 
 "Help! Help!" A man is passing, whistling 
 merrily. I give another wild yell. He leaps the 
 fence and looks around. Yell number three brings, 
 him to my novel prison. 
 
 " How can I assist you ? " he asks politely. 
 
 I peep through the leaves ; how disgusting ! It is 
 my horrid Scotch cousin. 
 
 " By helping me down, of course ! " I exclaim un- 
 graciously. "There's a ladder somewhere Bess 
 knows where it is." 
 
 He searches diligently, but can find neither. Twas.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 33 
 
 unkind of Bess to treat me so ; and so mortifying to 
 be dependent on that man. 
 
 " I am afraid you will have to jump/' he says. 
 
 Making the best of circumstances, I throw my 
 basket and scissors to the ground, gather my skirts 
 close, and take a flying leap straight into the arms 
 of the enemy, 
 
 " How romantic ! " laughs my naughty sister, mis- 
 chievously regarding us from the kitchen door. 
 'My happy thought has produced a charming 
 tableau. 
 
 " Practical jokes/' I cry, regaining my feet, "are 
 detestable ! " 
 
 "Now do not be cross, sister mine, but invite 
 your noble preserver to supper; it is just 
 ready." 
 
 " Will you ? " I ask politely. 
 
 " I will excuse your doing penance," he replies, 
 leaping the fence.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 " Bachelors are providential beings ; God created them for the conso- 
 lation of widows and the hope of maids." De Finod. 
 
 BUT what about school?" 
 " De school, he gan vait," returns our trustee 
 decidedly. 
 
 " Won't the patrons object ? " I ask with hesita- 
 tion. 
 
 De Captain actually grows purple with rage ; his 
 whole body swells with pride as he replies : " De 
 padrons ish iiottings. Dot ish my school I do vot 
 I please mit de school ! I say he close mit Vinsday, 
 for tank-giffin day, und not open no more till de 
 nex' Monday. Dare now, you satisfy ? " 
 
 "Yes, if you are sure it is all right." 
 
 " Den you mit me vill go ? " 
 
 "With pleasure. Who comprises the party ? " 
 
 "Veil, you see," counting 011 his fingers, " dare 
 ish de two Jupean fellers, und you two gearls, und 
 de Keyson poys, und Mees Marta Clarke, und de 
 Lang gearls. Ish dere enny pody else you vonts ?" 
 
 "No ; but you have no chaperon." 
 
 " Chopperont ? Vot ish he ?" 
 
 "A married lady, to keep us in order, you 
 know." 
 
 "Dot ish no goot ! Olt vomans rada stay home.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 35 
 
 Ve not do iiottings bad ; vy must we be votched ? 
 Eh ? " 
 
 " Is it not customary down here ? " 
 
 " No inteet ! dey vill dinks you crazy to dake olt 
 marrit vomans." 
 
 "Very well," I return, only half satisfied, "but I 
 wish you could persuade Mrs. Keyson to join us." 
 
 "Se shall, if you vornt him. Me go wight now 
 und see him." 
 
 The excursion we have been discussing is to the 
 phosphate works, and some of the lovely islands 
 down the coast. 
 
 The Captain has made up this party solely for my 
 enjoyment, and I appreciate his kindness; but 
 those Scotchmen ! I seem to meet them every 
 where. How I wish they would leave. Only think 
 of pic-nicing three days with them; really, it is too 
 vexatious ! In spite of all my lectures, Bess will 
 flirt with Kenneth Liiidsey. I can hardly blame 
 her, for he is so polished and gentlemanly, so differ- 
 ent from these rough cowboys but then, I am sure 
 there is some understanding between young King 
 and herself. She should not receive long love- 
 letters from one man, and openly encourage an- 
 other. Kenneth is a bonny lad ; I like him notwith- 
 standing his warm friendship for my enemy, and 
 would be sorry for him to come to grief. 
 
 Ah, there they come now ; he carrying her basket 
 of ferns, their hats and clothing profusely decorated 
 with wild-flowers. 
 
 "May I come in, Miss Kieth?"he calls, as they 
 reach the gate. "I have something for you." 
 
 "What is it?" I ask. 
 
 " A billet cloux, I suppose," handing me a note. 
 
 'Very likely," I return, opening it.
 
 36 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Miss KIETH: 
 
 Our nautical friend has invited me to attend 
 your Thanksgiving excursion. Now, tell me plainly, 
 will my presence be distasteful ? Can invent some 
 excuse, if necessary. Yours truly, 
 
 ALAN D. KIETH." 
 
 "Tell him " I begin. 
 
 "Do you wish me to be utterly demolished ?"cries 
 Kenneth in terror. 
 
 "What do you mean ?" 
 
 "Why, ' Lady fair,' if I return without some mis- 
 sive, penned by thy dear hand, he'll fall upon me, 
 tooth and nail, and I greatly doubt any remains be- 
 ing left for Christian burial." 
 
 "Here,' says Bess, tossing me a magnolia grande- 
 flora, "answer on this." 
 
 Breaking off a petal, I trace with a pin, " Go, if 
 you like." For, of course, I must not be out done 
 in generosity. 
 
 "Thanks, awfully," says Kenneth. "My noble 
 friend has something on his mind. I hope this will 
 prove a nervine." 
 
 "Let us hope so," laughs Bess. "Miss Kieth," 
 continues Kenneth, "I would give a great deal to 
 know why you hate poor Alan. Why, he is the 
 best fellow in the world. I have known him since 
 we were children, and" enthusiastically, "would 
 stake my honor on his character ! He could not do 
 a little thing, and he is generous to a fault ' 
 
 "Generous?" I repeat scornfully. "We must 
 agree to differ." 
 
 " That is because you do not know him ; have 
 never seen him rise superior to trial and temptation. 
 Oh you would love him
 
 A TALE OP SOUTH FLORIDA. 37 
 
 " 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished," 
 quotes Bess with a wicked laugh. 
 
 "Really, Miss Kieth," continues Kenneth, elo- 
 quent in his friend's service, "it hurts him to be 
 treated so unmercifully. What has he done?" 
 
 "Mr. Kieth can explain more satisfactorily." 
 
 "He says not." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Suppose we discuss another topic. 
 Have you caught many fish to-day ?" 
 
 "Yes; 200 Ibs. in two hours." 
 
 "Ah! Jack fish, I suppose." 
 
 "Yes; do you like them?" 
 
 "They are too coarse." says Bess. 
 
 " You prefer small fry ?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed; they are much sweeter." 
 
 " Yes," with an admiring glance at her own small 
 person. 
 
 "Little things usually are." 
 
 "That depends," she returns wisely. "Mos- 
 quitoes and sand-flies are both very small do you 
 find them sweet ?" 
 
 " They certainly give us a warmer reception than 
 you do," reproachfully. 
 
 "Never, before, have 1 been advised to imitate 
 the mosquito!" cries my indignant sister. "We 
 have been admonished all our lives to go to the ant 
 for wisdom, but to learn hospitality from a mos- 
 quito, is too biting a sarcasm !" 
 
 " Oh, now, Miss Bessie, that's too hard," he 
 laughs. 
 
 " I thought you wanted why here comes our 
 Peter, puffing and blowing like his own little steam- 
 boat. " What's up now ?" 
 
 He is certainly nmking port under full sail. The 
 dear fellow has walked so rapidl}- that his naturally
 
 38 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 fair complexion is quite as fiery as his beard. Every 
 pore is dripping with perspiration, hut a smile of 
 -riiimph illumines his glowing face, as, waving his 
 little cane frantically in the air, he cal]^ joyfully, 
 " Me got her ; se alride ! " 
 
 " Hath much learning made him mad ?" questions 
 Bess. 
 
 "At any rate," says Kenneth, "there's method 
 in his madness ; don't you see he addresses Miss 
 Kieth ? Now, as ever, his eye seeks her's alone. 
 She, seemingly, comprehends his ravings. Mark 
 the mathematical precision with which he ignores 
 our august presence ! Is it not galling to our sensi- 
 tive pride ? Come, let us fly from his awful pres- 
 ence !" 
 
 "No thank you, I am anxious to learn whom he 
 has got, and what he is to do with her." 
 
 " Well, Captain,"'! ask, "did she consent?" 
 
 " Yas, se alride den ve vill start to-morrow mor- 
 nint, early mit de day boud zix o'clock ? " 
 
 "Very well. Now, how about our baskets 
 
 "Dot ishnottings. I haf cook; he doeffery dings 
 ve vant. Effry feller dake his own bar; me look 
 after de rest." 
 
 "You are ever so good, Captain, I know we'll 
 have a jolly time." 
 
 " Dot ish goot ! You gay und happy, den I sholly , 
 mooch ; you sadt und lonesom, den Iliaf mooch bad 
 veelins me gry mine eyes sdraight avay oudt 
 already."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 "Men say of women wliat pleases them ; women Ho with men what 
 pleases tlicm."'De Segur. 
 
 SO we start on our "pleasure excursion." 
 I had long been anxious to visit the phosphate 
 works, for I had not only seen the tremendous bones, 
 ribs, and teeth from these prolific beds, but the Cap- 
 tain and I had been investigating them both geo- 
 logically and chemically. 
 
 We are a merry crowd, if I except Mrs. Keyson, 
 who, during my whole -acquaintance, has never 
 thawed. She is an odd woman. I know she loves 
 her husband and boys, though she never shows the 
 least sign of affection for any one is utterly, hope- 
 lessly indifferent till roused by jealousy. 
 
 Her husband, on the contrary, is quite a delight- 
 ful companion, while the boys are talk-to-able. 
 
 Miss Clarke is a simpering maiden of thirty-five 
 summers; and the Lang girls, gushing misses of 
 sixteen and eighteen. They regard every man who 
 owns a mustache as their lawful prey, and look 
 with lofty scorn 'upon the younger Keysons who 
 can not boast that proud distinction. Needless to 
 say, the boys return their feelings with interest and 
 lavish their youthful affections on Bess and me. 
 They are perfectly happy with either of us, having 
 no decided preference. Their chief delight is in 
 hanging round us, like two great watch dogs, " to
 
 40 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 keep the other fellows from making love, you 
 know." This laudable propensity having stood u, 
 in good stead on more than one occasion, we natu- 
 rally encourage its continuance. 
 
 What a perfect day for pic-nicing ! The sky 
 bright and clear, with masses of soft, filmy white 
 clouds ; the brilliant sunshine, dancing gaily over 
 the "dark, deep, beautiful blue" waters; the fresh, 
 bracing breeze, and no prospect of rain what more 
 could heart wish for ? 
 
 "Coomoopto de bilot house," says de Captain, 
 "dere you see mooch petter." 
 
 I am surprised, and rather disconcerted to find 
 my enemy at the wheel. 
 
 He is looking abominably handsome in his dark 
 blue yachting suit, and smiles with pleasure, as we 
 enter. 
 
 "Good morning, Miss Kieth," he says, "Let me 
 thank you for your kind note." 
 
 "You need not," I return ungraciously, "I could 
 scarcely have written otherwise." And, ignoring 
 his look of disappointment, I turn and ask Peter 
 what poinf we are passing. 
 
 " Oh dot vas Point H , vere Captain H 
 shwum de river when de Injunts vos afder him 
 right avay, quick, in von hurry ! Dot vot happen 
 blenty years ago long dimes pefore you vos 
 borned." 
 
 "Do you know," I reply, "I have never seen an 
 Indian ?" 
 
 " Oh, veil, he coom in bime-by mit vennyson und 
 vild durkey," 
 
 'How far do they live from M ?" 
 " 'Bout fifty mile. Me get oop nice growd, und 
 dake you oudt to see de earn])."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 4i. 
 
 " Oh that would be lovely. When can we go ?" 
 " Vot de matter mit Quistmas veek eh ?" 
 "Why, that will suit splendidly. Captain, you 
 are a jewel ! " He laughs delightedly, for our Peter 
 is vain and loves compliments. 
 
 "Me forgodt ;" he says, a few minutes later, " ve 
 ish all invite to a tinner barty. Here he ish " 
 thrusting his hand in one of his many pockets, he 
 draws out a note, and hands it to me, saying, " you 
 read him." 
 " DEAR CAPTAIN : 
 
 Remembering that Thursday is your birthday, 
 I have prepared a feast, and shall be pleased to re- 
 ceive any number of friends you care to bring. 
 Dinner at six, sharp. As ever, your friend, 
 Nov. 26, 18 . LILLIAN LEFON." 
 
 " Who is Lillian Lefon, and where does she live ?" 
 I ask, much interested. 
 
 " Oh, se ish vidow womans, und se life bout turty 
 miles f um here ; ve mooch goot vriens I eat dinner 
 mit her effry birtday." 
 
 " How nice ! Is she old or young ?" 
 
 "Young." 
 
 " And pretty ?" 
 
 "Oh yas und reech." 
 
 " And you like her very much ?" 
 
 " Yas pooty goot." 
 
 "Then," asks Kieth, "why do you not marry 
 her?*' 
 
 Peter blushes, and looks much confused. 
 
 " Why Captain," I tease, " are you really in love ?" 
 
 " Me lofe none but you ! " he cries ardently. 
 
 Kieth laughs, wickedly, enjoying my discomfit- 
 ure. I favor him with one withering glance, then 
 turn my back, and ask the Captain a leading ques-
 
 42 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 tion on politics. This, I know, is a safe topic ; for 
 nothing delights him more than lengthy discourses 
 on "de political sitivation ob de country, de intran- 
 cient (intrinsic) value ob free trade, and de tormen- 
 jus (tremendous) de-ficulties " that would befall our 
 nation, if prohibition was enforced. 
 
 We soon reach the phosphate works, and board 
 one of the dredges engaged in scooping this valua- 
 ble deposit from the river bottom. A heavy lighter 
 is being towed down stream. Another, equally 
 large, lies along side of the dredge to receive the 
 screened phosphate, which flows continually down 
 the shoot. Several men, provided with shovels and 
 spades, assist the transit. The deposit is largely 
 pebble, but even in the short while we watch the 
 flow, tremendous bones of long extinct animals are 
 brought to the surface. We climb to the upper- 
 deck, and inspect the large circular screen, which, 
 by every revolution separates so much sand from 
 the more valuable phosphate ; and are shown the 
 pipe through which the deposit enters the screen, 
 the great screw and its process of cleaning ; then 
 its final transfer to the ever- waiting lighter. 
 
 Mr. Kieth suggests, that, instead, of returning by 
 the ladder, which he considers unsafe, I jump to the 
 large pile of phosphate heaped upon the lighter. From 
 sheer perversity, I refuse. De Captain holds the lad. 
 der, and my enemy offers his hand, which I decline. 
 
 When half way down, the dredge gives a sudden 
 swing, the ladder is unsettled, and down I come, 
 straight into the arms of the enemy ! 
 
 " Mine Got !" cries Peter, his ruddy face white 
 with fright. " You would haf cronched to clet ! Des 
 see de lighter und de dredge boat schwing to already 
 de same nieenit."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 43 
 
 Keith, who looks quite as agitated as de Captain, 
 has utterly forgotten that he holds me in a warm 
 embrace. I mildly suggest that we are attracting 
 attention. Slowly depositing me, he eyes me atten- 
 tively, evidently expecting another mishap. 
 
 We go ashore, where there is a tremendous pile 
 of phosphate, look for shark's teeth, watch the pro- 
 cess of burning (to reduce the shell) visit the drying 
 sheds, and finally select a nice place, make coffee, 
 and spread our lunch. 
 
 Peter insists on doing everything in person, but 
 Miss Clarke will assist. She is painfully attentive 
 to the poor fellow, exclaiming constantly, " Oh you 
 kind, good man ! " or "Dear Captain, you delight- 
 ful creature !" which, mingled with curious contor- 
 tions of face and body, rolling of eyes and theatri- 
 cal gestures, are simply killing. 
 
 "Captain," I ask, "did you make this chowder? 
 It is delicious ! " 
 
 " Yas, me mek him. You like him ? Goot ! Haf 
 som moor?" 
 
 "1 didn't know clams could be cooked tender. 
 How did you manage it ?" 
 
 " Me show you som day," he returns much flat- 
 tered. 
 
 Bess and Kenneth are eating from the same plate, 
 their heads almost too close together. 
 
 "Des look at dem !" laughs Peter, "Dey haffin 
 sholly ole dimes." 
 
 George Key son sits near them, so I feel safe. 
 
 Frank is devoting himself to the eldest Miss Lang, 
 and the. younger, because she has no other game, 
 tries to flirt with Syd. 
 
 Mrs. Kevson and Miss Clarke discuss with great 
 zeal, the relative merits of canned guavas and Mango
 
 44 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 jelly, while Mr. Keyson politely supplies their wants. 
 
 Mr. Kieth, my nearest neighbor, is polite, but not 
 obstrusive. Our remarks are far from brilliant. I 
 strive to make the conversation general, but fail ; 
 so, with one despairing glance at Peter, who is here, 
 there, and every where, I meekly resign myself to 
 the inevitable". 
 
 "Do you not think " he remarks, apropos of noth- 
 ing, "that it would be much more pleasant to lay 
 aside your enmity ? Why can we not enjoy our- 
 selves as much as they ?" glancing towards Bess 
 and Kenneth. 
 
 "Well, "I return, grateful for his timely rescue, 
 "As we shall, necessarily, be much together, I will 
 try to overlook your past unkindness." 
 
 " Come, now, in the name of Christian charity, 
 what have I done ?" 
 
 I look him calmly in the face, but discover no 
 sign of guilt ; his self-control is truly wonderful. 
 
 "Really," I reply, "if we discuss that topic even sur- 
 face friendship will become impossible ; so, I will pre- 
 tend (for the trip only) that we are devoted friends." 
 
 "Thank you," he returns with a bright smile, 
 "Friends shake hands ; shall we seal the compact?" 
 
 " Mine are greasy," trying to avoid him. 
 
 "That is easily overcome," he answers, producing 
 a snowy handkerchief. 
 
 Completely cornered I yield gracefully. His clasp 
 is strong, sincere, magnetic ; I feel compelled to like 
 him, though I can never forgive his ungentlemanly 
 letter. 
 
 I must confess he is a delightful companion, and 
 I give myself up to the full enjoyment of this charm- 
 ing trip, remembering always, that next week he 
 will still be my foe.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " Samivel, my son, bevare of the vidows." Dickens. 
 
 THE river, near its mouth, widens into a broad 
 bay, and is dotted here and there with lovely 
 verdure-clothed islands. On one of these, lives Mrs. 
 Lefon ; and his majesty, the sun, is just taking his 
 evening dip into the blue waters, as we reach her 
 wharf. 
 
 There she stands, in her white dress, a smile of 
 welcome upon her lips. 
 
 The Captain leaps ashore, shakes hands, and says 
 something, at which they both laugh. She has fine 
 teeth, and evidently knows it. 
 
 Alan Kieth takes possession of my wrap, and 
 stands, patiently waiting my departure. 
 
 Seeing he must be my attendant, I hastily join 
 de Captain, and am introduced to our hostess. 
 
 She is a slender blond, " divinely tall, and most 
 divinely fair," with engaging manners, and a pair 
 of dangerous blue eyes. 
 
 She smiles serenely upon us, saying how "per- 
 fectly lovely " it is to have us ; then, slipping her 
 hand under Peter's arm, leads the way to the house. 
 "She seems to regard de Captain as her rightful 
 prey," laughs Kieth, as we follow them up the 
 white shell walk. " Rather hard on you, is it not ?" 
 "Yes, indeed." I return much aggrieved. "I feel 
 that I am defrauded !"
 
 46 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " Poor little girl ! I wish I could console you." 
 
 " You cannot. No one can talk like Peter." 
 
 " I can at least say, ' I lofe you !' " 
 
 " You shall not mock the dear fellow !" said I, 
 while blushing at his look. 
 
 'lam simply imitating his virtues," he returns 
 coolly. 
 
 "Look, Miss Nel !" cries Syd running towards us. 
 "I've found a lot of cocoa-plums ; try one." 
 
 I force myself to eat one or two, though I do not 
 like them, and am rewarded by Syd's company the 
 rest of the way. 
 
 The house, a neat, white cottage, stands on a 
 slight elevation, the grounds being terraced down 
 to the white sands of the shell strewn beach. On 
 each side of the avenue, stately cocoa-palms rear 
 their lofty heads, and the wind, playing through 
 their graceful fronds, creates a wierd, peculiar 
 sound, unlike any thing I had ever heard. Brilliant 
 flowers are growing every where the air is heavy 
 with perfume. 
 
 I am not surprised, when a little South American 
 monkey climbs rapidly to the top of a cocoa-nut 
 tree, or startled when a gorgeous parrot screams 
 shrilly, "wipe your feet! wipe your feet, I say!" 
 for they are only in keeping with their surround- 
 ings. 
 
 "You may take the gentlemen to your old room, 
 Captain," says Mrs. Lefon. "Dinner will be served 
 in ten minutes. This way, ladies." She conducts 
 us to a daintily appointed bed-room, where we do a 
 little extra touching up. 
 
 "You must excuse our dinner dresses," I say. 
 " The Captain told us nothing of your invitation till 
 we were on board."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 47 
 
 "Just like the dear fellow!" she laughs. "By 
 the way, I have arranged for tableaux, and invited 
 the islanders; you will all assist." 
 
 " Then I hope," says Bess, brushing out her 
 pretty blond hair, and fluffing her bangs, "you 
 can clothe us." 
 
 "Yes," returns the widow, "I have not only 
 arranged my program, but all costumes and stage 
 property. The Captain delights in theatricals, and 
 can any of you sing ?" 
 
 "Miss Kieth has a lovely voice," returns Miss 
 Clarke. " I have a throat trouble and never sing, 
 now." 
 
 "She never could," snickers the younger Miss Lang. 
 
 "Ah how lovely !" says Mrs. Lefon, " and your 
 brother or is he your cousin does he sing?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then you two will do that lovely duet from 
 Faust. Of course you know it ?" 
 " Yes ; but please do not put me with him. I will 
 do anything else." 
 
 "Nonsense! You must. Are you ready? Then 
 come to the parlor." 
 
 As the gentlemen enter our hostess pairs us off ; 
 then to the great disgust of both Miss Clark and 
 myself she leads the way to the dining-room^ her 
 fair face flushed with pleasure as she leans com- 
 placently on Peter's arm. 
 
 " Left again !" laughs Kieth, thoroughly enjoying 
 my crestfallen look. 
 
 " What does she mean ? " I ask, placing my finger 
 tips relunctantly upon his arm. 
 
 "By what?" 
 
 "By walking rough-shod over my feelings," I re- 
 turn with a pathetic sigh.
 
 48 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "It is hard," he returns, "to lose such a devoted 
 slave." 
 
 The dining-room is a large airy apartment, finished 
 in natural pine. The door and window trimmings 
 of black walnut form a pretty contrast, while the 
 floor, stained a dark brown, is only partly concealed 
 by a handsome crumb cloth. 
 
 A scarlet flamingo stands erect in one corner, look- 
 ing disdainfully upon the smaller birds, who, from 
 the other end of the room perch upon the moss- 
 draped branches of an old tree. 
 
 An eight foot tarpon, mounted on blue velvet, 
 occupies a conspicuous place ; while, over the door, 
 are draped the German flag with our own stars and 
 stripes. Just beneath these national decorations, 
 hangs a floral horse shoe, while from walls and ceil- 
 ing depend numerous garlands, and wreathes. 
 
 The table is an artistic study in fruit and flowers. 
 
 Dainty cactus blossoms, pale yellow, mingled with 
 geranium leaves and waxy pau-pau flowers, are 
 beautifully arranged in exquisitely tinted sea shells; 
 while great pyramids of tropical fruits, piled high 
 in silver-mounted turtle backs, lend a quaint charm 
 to the feast. 
 
 On each plate lies a beautifully painted tarpon 
 scale the reverse side containing the menu. We 
 are favored, also, with unique bon-bon boxes 
 highly polished bivalves, tied with dainty ribbons. 
 The butter plates are fragile white shells, with an 
 inner coating of rich yellow the soup-ladle, sugar- 
 tongs and berry spoons, all shells, fitted with silver 
 handles. 
 
 There we sat, miles from civilization, and ate a 
 nine course dinner beautifully served; artistic, 
 and decidedly novel.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 49 
 
 The meal over, we adjourn to the parlor and hold a 
 council of war. 
 
 Our hostess informs us that the theatricals will 
 take place upon a large shell bank near the house 
 the bank being our stage, the audience sitting be- 
 low. The company, she says, is waiting ; so, taking 
 her program, she writes our names opposite certain 
 tableaux, and, without giving us the slightest idea 
 of our parts, leads us to the open air theatre. 
 
 A palmetto house, separated by curtains into three 
 apartments, furnishes excellent dressing rooms. In 
 the middle room stands Mrs. Lefon, calm and col- 
 lected, distributing costumes ; she tell us to give no 
 thought to our performance, she will pose us proper- 
 ly ; and bids us hasten to clothe ourselves, for the 
 bonfires have been lighted, and the curtain is about 
 to rise. 
 
 We obey with alacrity, for who can resist this 
 quiet, self-contained young widow ?
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Love is I know not what ; which comes I know not whence ; is 
 formed I know not how; which ends I know not when or why." Mile. 
 C. Scuddert. 
 
 THE Captain opens our performance with a plain- 
 tive flute solo , which is followed by an ex- 
 citing sword duel, between our Scotchmen attired 
 respectively as highlander and lowlander. 
 
 The curtain next rises on the sad faces of Frank 
 Keyson and Mrs Lefon both wearing the French 
 costume of two centuries ago. "The Huguenot," 
 whispers Kieth, even before she begins her passion- 
 ate recital. 
 
 Her long fair hair hangs loosely about her should- 
 ers, her eyes look tenderly, beseechingly into his 
 dark face as she pleads for his safety. All through 
 this scene Peter plays " Consolation " so softly it 
 seems miles and miles away yet, so distinctly that 
 we hear every note. Now come some comic tab- 
 leaux, in which the Misses Lang and Messrs. Key- 
 son figure. Bess makes a charming "Priscilla;" 
 and, with Kenneth for "John Alden " gives us a 
 perfect " Spinning-wheel " scene. 
 
 Last of all, comes our duet. 
 
 Both my enemy and myself are lifted entirely 
 out of ourselves, and act as though we mean every 
 word. We do, for the time, or how else could we 
 sing? 
 
 "You are excited/' he says 4 as the curtain falls
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 51 
 
 amid great applause. " Come, take a turn on the 
 beach." 
 
 Forgetful of my enmity, I follow him willingly, 
 md am soon walking close to the water's edge 
 Now I listen to the wild sea waves, and am thrilled 
 by that glorious song of nature alway the same, yet 
 ever new ! 
 
 The fresh sea breeze, the clear, bright moonlight, 
 the deep, majestic voice of old ocean, above all, the 
 sympathetic silence of my companion, charm me 
 unutterably ! 
 
 "Miss Nel ! Oh Miss Nel !" screams Sycl's young 
 voice. 
 
 "Ah !" I sigh, " Why will they worry me ?" 
 
 " I will send him about his business," says Mr. 
 Kieth by no means gently. 
 
 " No," I return regretfully, "the charm is broken; 
 let us return." 
 
 "Stay a little," he pleads, "I could linger for 
 hours." 
 
 "So could I, till Syd interrupted us." 
 
 " Were you really happy with me ?" 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " Then stay, and let me tell you " 
 
 " I say, Miss Nel, they are waiting for you !" 
 Syd's voice is much nearer, and soon he joins us, 
 saying in an annoyed tone, " What in the mischief 
 are you doing way out here ? I have looked high 
 and low for you ; been at it an hour !" 
 
 " Dear child !" I return, " we have not been here 
 ten minutes ! WJiat do they want ?" 
 
 " Why they want to cut the birthday cake it has 
 a ring and a button in it and the Cap'n won't let 
 'em touch it till you get there." 
 
 "I wonder Mrs. Lef on allows him to think of me!"
 
 52 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " I say it ! " exclaims my youthful admirer, " how 
 can she help it ? But I tell you, Miss Nel, she does 
 him that way all the time they are together never 
 lets him look at another woman." 
 
 " What does she mean ?" 
 
 *' I don't know, but it looks plaguey like she means 
 to marry him." 
 
 Mr. Keith and I both laugh. 
 
 "Oh, Syd," I cry, " you are too comical! The 
 very idea is preposterous our Peter is not a marry- 
 ing man." 
 
 " Well," he continues doggedly, " I didn't say he 
 wanted her-did I? Next year is leap year, you know.' 1 
 
 "And do you fancy, you ridiculous boy, that she 
 will ask him ?" 
 
 " Of course. Why, I bet you anything, if you go 
 back on him, she'll marry him in spite of anything 
 he may do or say !" 
 
 " I must confess," laughs Kieth, "I should greatly 
 like to hear the courtship." 
 
 " I say, Miss Nel," persists Syd, " could you love a 
 fellow well enough to tell him of it ?" 
 
 "I think not, Syd." 
 
 "Not even leap year? Just for fun, you know." 
 
 " Perhaps but I could never do it in earnest." 
 
 "Well," continues the youngster, as we join the 
 waiting. crowd, " it can't be any harder on you than 
 on us men." 
 
 " Us men?" mocks Bess. "Syd, my child, what 
 are you puzzling your poor brains over?" 
 
 "We are discussing," retorts the boy, drawing 
 himself up proudly, and using the longest words at 
 his command, "the advisability of you ladies pro- 
 posing marriage. What are your sentiments, Mrs. 
 Lefon?"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 5b 
 
 Our hostess gives one calm, possessive glance at 
 Peter, then, in her sweet, deliberate voice replies : 
 
 "I think it but just that woman exercise that 
 right in common with man. ' 
 
 "Oh!" exclaims Miss Clarke, "I could never be 
 so immodest." 
 
 " There is no immodesty," returns the fair Lillian. 
 "When we love, eyes, voice, manner, all plead for 
 us. Why not words? Only a foolish prejudice 
 prevents our speaking." 
 
 " Could you ?" I hear Kenneth ask Bess. 
 
 " If the inducement was sufficient," she laughs. 
 
 "What think you of an heir-loom diamond? 
 Would it be ?" 
 
 "It might, if handsome." 
 
 "Bess," I call, determined to break into this dan- 
 gerous conversation, " do help me find this pin it's 
 sticking me awfully." 
 
 " Nel," she whispers," you are too mean you 
 spoilt just the loveliest flirtation !" 
 
 " I know it," sternly. " Why will you carry on 
 so outrageously ?" 
 
 "I'm only having a little fun," she returns inno- 
 cently. " It don't hurt them ! Their hearts aro 
 like turtle, eggs you may make a little dent, but 
 they are too tough to break." 
 
 "I'm ashamed of you ! Do try to behave more 
 decently." 
 
 "Well," that's a good one !" she laughs. "Pray, 
 Miss Propriety, what have you been doing to our 
 enemy ? You need'nt accuse me of flirting !" 
 
 "What do you mean?" I ask indignantly. 
 
 " What do I mean ? Why, that you have been 
 inseparable since lunch. Kenneth and I have been 
 wondering all sorts of things."
 
 54 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 The more annoyed I become, the worse she teases, 
 so I change my tactics and remark quietly, "Yes, 
 he is very agreeable." 
 
 The motley assembly of islanders is served with 
 ice-cream and cake, fruit and nuts ; and we gather 
 around the birthday cake. The Captain, who cuts 
 first, gives a war-whoop ; for out falls a dainty for- 
 get-me-not ring ! Much amusement is caused by 
 our efforts to avoid the dreaded button ; fate, alas ! 
 gives it to Miss Clarke and she accepts it ungrac- 
 iously. 
 
 "Dere, Mees Nelsonn," says Peter, "you kep my 
 little trinket dill ve gets home ; I vill sure loose him." 
 
 "Very well," I reply, extending my hand. 
 
 He playfully drops the ring over my finger, and 1 
 push it down, considering that the most convenient 
 mode of carriage. 
 
 "Just look at her !" whispers Syd, and I glance up 
 in time to catch the look of surprise and hatred with 
 which the widow favors me. 
 
 "Why Syd, what ails her?" 
 
 " Jealousy," he answers sagely. " That's just the 
 way they look when they fancy another girl is after 
 their fellow. She'll hate you, now, worse than 
 snaked Just look at 'em guess she's hauling him 
 over the coals." 
 
 They are evidently arguing Bome^^it, but I can 
 see she is tranquilly taking her own way. There is 
 so much quiet force about this woman';; that I begin 
 to sympathize with Peter. What if Syd's absurd 
 idea is correct ? Now they approach us, and she re- 
 marks in her smooth, even voice, " I have at last 
 convinced the Captain that I can take care of you 
 to-night that is, if you won't mind being a little 
 crowded."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 55 
 
 "Thank you," I return, by no means charmed. 
 "It is unnecessary to trouble you we came pre- 
 pared to camp." 
 
 " Indeed, you shall not ! " she returns decisively, 
 "Your beds are already spread so come with me 
 it is after twelve. Captain, you know where to 
 stow the gentlemen come, ladies." 
 
 Mrs. Lefon's bedroom had been transformed into 
 a regular dormitory neat little cots occupied every 
 available space. She gives up her own comfortable 
 bed to the two older ladies, and takes possession of 
 the fifth cot. 
 
 " Girls," she says, mischievously, " be sure to 
 name the corners ; and remember, what you dream 
 will come to pass." 
 
 Tis the first peep of day, when I awake from a 
 most horrible dream ! Will it come true ? I hope 
 not ! Mrs. Lefoii, our polite hostess, had chased me 
 all night with a long, murderous knife, shrieking 
 wildly that I had stolen her lover, and should die ! 
 Down the slippery beach we flew, her long, fair 
 hair flying wildly in the breeze ! I feel her hot 
 breath in my face now she clutches me, and is 
 about to finish her mad exploit, when Peter and my 
 enemy rush to the rescue. The former shields me 
 with his body, while, the latter grabs her floating 
 hair, holding her in* a vice. I start up and look 
 around thank God, it is but a dream ! My com- 
 panions sleep peacefully. Miss Clark snores music- 
 ally, and Mrs. Lefon's face is as composed as in her 
 waking hours. , 
 
 I return to my couch, but can not sleep so hastily 
 dressing, I slip quietly from the house down to the 
 beach. 
 
 Our two Scotchmen have just emerged from their
 
 56 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 morning dip. The Captain, coming on deck, calls 
 out " De coffee ish ready !" 
 
 Ah, now he sees me, jumps ashore to ask if I'll 
 join them. I accept thankfully, having no roman- 
 tic notion for long walks before breakfast. 
 
 Peter, now free from Mrs. Lefon's clutches, 
 seems to enjoy himself immensely. 
 
 " How came you up so early ?" asks Kenneth, " I 
 thought you loved your beauty sleep." 
 
 " Bad dreams," I answer shortly. 
 
 " Why, you are as bad as Kieth he clutched me 
 about day-break, and yelled aloud, "Hold, wretched 
 woman !" Suppose you give us an experience 
 meeting." 
 
 " What did you dream ?" I ask, looking curiously 
 into my enemy's troubled face. 
 
 "That the Captain and I were rescuing you from 
 a mad woman." 
 
 " How strange ! Did you see her face ? " 
 
 " Yes, and it was " 
 
 The Captain is looking at us anxiously, so he con- 
 tinues evasively, "a tall woman, with long, fair 
 hair. She carried a long knife, and threatened to 
 kill you, saying you had stolen her lover, and should 
 ' die ! die ! die ! ' Is she the same ?" 
 
 "Yes," I answer, much agitated. 
 
 " Come, boys," he says, laying aside ms cup, ' let 
 us walk on the beach nothing like a good run to 
 brace up nerves." 
 
 We wander several hours, stopping occasionally 
 to pick up a pretty shell, star-fish or bit of 
 coral. 
 
 The Captain is as merry as a boy ; indeed, we are 
 all happy children. 
 
 "Suppose," suggests Kieth, "we run away, and
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 57 
 
 leave the others ? We are much happier without 
 them." 
 
 "You forget," says Kenneth, evidently thinking 
 of Bess, " we would soon quarrel over our lady. No, 
 our colony would necessarily demand another." 
 
 " I see your game," laughs his friend, " you would 
 provide for self, and leave the Captain and me to 
 contend for the smiles of our present sovereign." 
 
 "And the Captain," I say with a mischievous 
 laugh, "could never leave Mrs. Lefon." 
 
 Poor Peter blushes hotly, as he exclaims, " You 
 know nottings bout him ! Se bodder me too mooch 
 already. But vot I do ? Se fine vomans vere fine 
 vomans but I lofe but you !" 
 
 "But you must not love me," I insist, "she does 
 not like it." 
 
 "Me done gare me done gare ! Se ish nottings. 
 I lofe you mooch !" 
 
 " I begin to doubt it ; for you have neglected me 
 shamefully !' 
 
 " Oh Mees Nelson ! you know he vos true ! Here, 
 on my knees I schware him." Down upon the wet 
 sand he falls, regardless of spectators. 
 
 " Oh you ridiculous man ! Do get uo. Hurry, or 
 that great wave will strike you !" 
 
 "Neffar ! " he cries steadfastly. "Till you say dot 
 you believe me." 
 
 "You had better, for here comes Mrs. Lefon." 
 
 This information acts like magic. Up he bounces, 
 a look of disgust upon his dear old face. 
 
 Bessie and the widow soon join us ; if looks could 
 kill I should certainly drop dead in my tracks. 
 "Breakfast is waiting," she remarks in her com- 
 posed way, " we have had a long search for you. 
 Come, Captain."
 
 58 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 Peter is in a quandary. He looks longingly at me 
 and hesitates. 
 
 "Please, Mrs. Lefon," I cry with much feeling, 
 " do not take the Captain from me ! He is just in 
 the midst of a thrilling description. Mr. Kieth, I 
 know, will be charmed to escort you." 
 
 "I regret disturbing you," she returns politely, 
 " but I am compelled to discuss an important busi- 
 ness matter with the Captain." 
 
 She lays her firm white hand upon his unwilling 
 arm, and, with one triumphant glance at me, tows 
 the poor fellow forward. 
 
 "Did you ever get left? "laughs Kenneth, who 
 has already taken possession of Bess. 
 
 " Surely, Mr. Kieth, you sympathize with me ?" I 
 retort in mock despair. 
 
 " How can I," he laughs, " when you were so will- 
 ing to sacrifice me ?" 
 
 "But you are not so charmingly unique as 
 Peter!" 
 
 " Serves you right," says Bess, "for being selfish. 
 Poor Miss Clarke hasn't had a peck at him yet." 
 
 " Seriously, Miss Kieth," says my enemy, "don't 
 rouse that woman's jealousy there is a devil behind 
 those tranquil eyes ; she'll go to any lengths." 
 
 "And must I tamely surrender my most devoted 
 admirer ?" 
 
 " "Twould be safer unless, indeed, you care for 
 Peter." 
 
 " Of course I care for Peter ; how can I help it, 
 when he says ' I lof e you ? ' " 
 
 " Then be 011 guard, keep your out-posts protected 
 and look out for treachery."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 "AH are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
 Whose body nature is, and God the soul." Pope. 
 
 AFTER a dainty breakfast, we bid our hostess 
 farewell, board the "Okeechobee," and steam 
 further south. 
 
 On we glide, over the smooth waters ; passing 
 many curious mangrove swamps, and beautiful 
 beach-encircled islands. 
 
 Immense flocks of sea-gulls scream by us in their 
 flight ; while, just ahead, a pelican dives for his 
 prey, then calmly rides the shining waters. 
 
 Islands become more numerous. Now we reach 
 a cluster, separated only by narrow passses. The 
 islands are in a high state of cultivation ; cocoanut 
 groves edge the beaches, extending some distance 
 inland, there to overshadow bananas, pineapples, 
 and smaller fruits. 
 
 The inhabitants, Peter informs me, engage in 
 raising vegetables for northern markets ; thousands 
 of crates being shipped every year. 
 
 Here, frost is unknown ; for the warm gulf waters, 
 even more than the southern latitudes, produce an 
 even, mild temperature, seldom found out of the 
 tropics. 
 
 This, I am told, is the beginning of the wonderful 
 Thousand Islands; for, as we proceed south, the 
 isles become more and more numerous, the passes 
 more narrow and intricate.
 
 60 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 Towards evening we land on one of these gems of 
 ocean and prepare to camp. 
 
 De Captain flourishes about, giving orders to the 
 others ; nothing delights his dear old heart more 
 than "bossing." 
 
 Our bars are stretched, a huge camp-fire lighted, 
 and Peter, assisted or hindered by most of the 
 fair ones, prepares supper. 
 
 " Who will wash dishes ?" asks Bess, when we've 
 all done justice to our open air feast. 
 
 "I! " exclaim the Misses Lang, simultaneously. 
 
 " I will assist some gentleman," simpers Miss 
 Clarke. 
 
 " Suppose we draw straws ?" continues Bess. 
 " You hold them for us, Mrs. Keyson, and your hus- 
 band for the boys ; remember the shortest straw 
 means dishwashing. " 
 
 The penance falls on Mr. Keith and me. How 
 disagreeable ! The others give a shout of derision, 
 well knowing my aversion to this particular occu- 
 pation. Now, I can wash dishes, and wash them 
 well, but I utterly detest it ! A cook is something 
 of a general, but a dishwasher I fully agree with 
 the sensible woman who wrote, 
 
 " Oh the times they must be handled, 
 
 O'er and o'er, day after day, 
 Almost makes me wish the china 
 Were in bits, for children's play ! " 
 
 However, with all my faults I possess one virtue 
 that of accepting the inevitable with equanimity. 
 So, with my sweetest smile, I exclaim gaily, " Come, 
 Mr. Kieth, begin your work ! " 
 
 "Must I?" he asks in lazy tones. "Suppose we 
 bribe the cook ?" 
 
 " Never !" I return sternly. " Here, scrape these 
 plates, while I pack the cold food,"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLOKIDA. 61 
 
 " What must be done ?" he begins, scraping with 
 great vigor. 
 
 He "stacks" the dishes, pours hot water over 
 them,, then stands, towel in hand to dry them. We 
 soon finish our unwelcome task, but my friends, 
 alas ! have " dispersed and wandered far away ! far 
 away ?" True, Peter threw me a despairing glance, 
 when marched off by the fair "Marta," which, 
 though flattering to my vanity, could not relieve 
 my present unhappy condition. 
 
 Even Syd had deserted. 
 
 Making the best of circumstances, I say, crossly : 
 
 " Come on, let us find the others." 
 
 " Suppose we remain," he suggests, "I am awfully 
 contented." 
 
 " I am not ;" I answer, by no means desirous of a 
 tete-a-tete, " but do as you like." 
 
 "Whither thou goest, I will go!" he answers, 
 offering his arm. 
 
 The brilliant moonlight falls with a soft Tadiance 
 about us, flooding both land and sea with its clear, 
 white sheen. 
 
 Several couples promenade the sands, while others 
 sit upon the high shell bank. Before we reach the 
 first group Syd runs towards us, a tin can held care- 
 fully in one hand, the other placed firmly over it. 
 
 " I say, Miss Nel," he says in a mysterious whis- 
 per, " which is Miss Clarke's bed ?" 
 
 "Third from camp," I return. "Why do you 
 ask ?" 
 
 "Nothin'," he answers, running briskly along. 
 
 "That tin can means mischief/' laughs my com- 
 panion. "Shall we warn Miss Clarke ?" 
 
 "Do not tell tales ! " I answer. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Kieth, we were just wishing for you,"
 
 62 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 says Mr. Keyson, who, with several others, sits upon 
 the upper ledge. " Come give us a song music is 
 all we need this perfect night." 
 
 "Don't stop," pleads my companion, "walking is 
 much nicer." 
 
 "No," I answer, determined to be disagreeable, 
 " moonlight always makes me sentimental." 
 
 "And how," he asks, "does that state affect 
 you ?" 
 
 " Why, like other romantic damsels, I ' for my 
 absent lover sigh !' Isn't that the correct thing?" 
 
 " Have you an absent lover ?" he asks anxiously. 
 
 "Really, Mr. Kieth, considering our great in- 
 timacy -" 
 
 "Excuse me," he interrupts, "I forgot myself." 
 
 " Oh Mees Nelson !" calls Peter, " hurry mit dot 
 song ! " 
 
 Working myself up to a feeling of passionate 
 yearning I sing "Dreams." 
 
 " When I look back, on days gone by, 
 
 I dream of thee, dear one, 
 Then grows my soul so sad and drear, 
 Aye sadder than " 
 
 Before I finish the first verse, Peter, who is easily 
 touched by music, is in tears. 
 
 " How could you sing that sad, sad song ?" says 
 Miss Clarke, sympathetically wiping her dry eyes. 
 "Do give us something comic." 
 
 I glance at my audience my enemy is looking 
 quite subdued. Mr. Keyson wears a far away look, 
 as though his mind was filled with long dead mem- 
 ories. His wife, alone, is unmoved either she has 
 no emotion, or keeps it under strict control. 
 
 They certainly need diversion ; so I sing, in my 
 lightest, most flippant tone, that famous old love 
 song, " Rory O'More,"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 63 
 
 The rest of our party, attracted by the music now 
 join us, and Kenneth begs for a Scotch ballad. 
 
 "What do you want?" I ask. 
 
 " ' John Anderson my Joe/ " says Kieth. 
 
 "Yes," returns Kenneth, " that is my favorite.' 
 
 As I sing, some irresistible force compels me to 
 look directly at my enemy. I try not to, for I seem 
 to sing to him alone but try as I will my eyes seek 
 his. 
 
 " Do give us another ! " begs the party. 
 
 But I cannot ; I am perfectly helpless. Singing 
 never affected me so strangely before. We lie there 
 and plan for to-morrow, our last day of idle enjoy- 
 ment, then depart, "each to his narrow bed." 
 
 Scarcely have our heads touched the pillow, when 
 blood-curdling screams float upon the air ! I raise 
 my bar aud reconnoitre. The cries of anguish pro- 
 ceed from feminine voices, and from the bars of the 
 Misses Clarke and Lang. Soon the protecting 
 cheese-cloth is torn aside, and three maidens, two 
 young, one old, caper madly about, making frantic 
 efforts to free themselves of some crawling object. 
 
 "What is it?" I ask, as they approach nearer. 
 
 "Fiddlers !" they yell in chorus. "Mercy, they 
 are down my back ! O-o-o-o ! One is on my head ! 
 Do take this one from my toe ! " were some of the 
 exclamations heard. 
 
 " Syd's little game," I think to myself, but say 
 nothing. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Keyson soon relieve the ladies of 
 their troublesome guests, and "silence settles, deep 
 and still " over our little encampment. 
 
 Day is just breaking, when the now familiar " cow 
 holler" from Syd's strong lungs, disturbs our pleas- 
 ant slumbers. We rise without a murmur, and
 
 64 TWO LITTLE MAIDS'. 
 
 dress in haste, for to-day we fisli for tarpon that 
 great silver king of South Florida waters. 
 
 Before starting, the gentlemen test their lines ; an 
 important precaution which should never be neglect- 
 ed. Securing the hook to a tree, or other immov 
 able object, they move backwards fifty or a hundred 
 feet, and bear steadily upon the line, imitating, as 
 far as possible the movements of Mr. Tarpon. This 
 test is very thorough ; all your strength being exer- 
 cised in an effort to break the line. If anything gives 
 way, it should be the rod ; for a line which cannot 
 stand this test is utterly worthless for tarpon, and. 
 will prove only a ' vexation of spirit " to its un- 
 happy owner. 
 
 There are so many ways unavoidable ways by 
 which a tarpon may escape from even an experi- 
 enced angler, that no man can afford to trifle with 
 poor tackle. There are times in the life of every 
 "tarponer," when he feels, acutely, that it " would 
 be better if he had never been born." For nothing 
 in heaven or earth is so calculated to make men 
 swear as the loss of this gamey fish through defec- 
 tive tackle. Syd declares he has seen great, strong 
 men, the fathers of many children, actually shed 
 tears of mortification over the breaking of a line or 
 defect in the snood. 
 
 We divide into parties of four, and, with rods, 
 reels and lunch baskets securely packed in small 
 boats, proceed to a pass long famed for tarpon. 
 
 Miss Clarke, Mr. Kieth and I, who are in the Cap- 
 tain's boat, arrive at the fishing ground about seven 
 o'clock. Our boats lie within talking distance, 
 though not near enough to interfere with each 
 other. 
 
 Mr. Tarpon feeds in shallow water, and is quite
 
 A TALE OP SOUTH FLORIDA. 65 
 
 dainty about his fare. We drop our hooks, baited 
 with half a mullet, and possess our souls with 
 patience. Half an hour of suspense ensues, when 
 Mr. Kieth exhibits traces of unusual excitement ! 
 His line is being drawn out slowly, at first, then 
 more rapidly ; a tarpon has been hooked. He lets 
 her run fifty feet, then begins winding in ; out she 
 goes again ! 
 
 Syd, who is nearest us, shouts, "Let her go Galla- 
 gher !" 
 
 Peter -hoists full sail, and away we go like the 
 wind ! The other boats keep at a respectful distance, 
 for there is, necessarily, much courtesy in tarpon 
 fishing. 
 
 Kieth grits his teeth, pulls his hat well over his 
 eyes, braces his feet, and works" hard at his reel. 
 Peter gives several excited instructions. Now our 
 monarch of the deep begins to feel the pressure upon 
 his mighty jaws, and leaps high in air ! His silver 
 scales sparkle in the sun-light like so many jewels ! 
 Down he plunges and again the mad race begins. 
 
 Mr. Tarpon's sagacity amounts almost to reason ; 
 his cunning in baffling his enemies would do credit 
 to a first-class politician. Mr. Kieth is actually pale 
 with excitement, but plays his fish well. This per- 
 formance, with slight variations, continues three 
 mortal hours ; when, just as we are sure of our prey, 
 the wary fish gives a " give me liberty or give me 
 death " plunge, and is gone ! 
 
 Poor Kieth pulls his hat still further over his eyes, 
 and drops his hands helplessly to his sides. His 
 whole figure assumes a hopeless, reckless expres- 
 sion, but he utters not a word. He has sinco 
 acknowledged, that he swore, inwardly, the rest of 
 the day.
 
 66 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 Peter gives a great sob, Miss Clarke sighs sympa- 
 thetically, and I to keep from crying laugh hys- 
 terically. I can't see my enemy's face, but he turns 
 his back with an angry gesture. 
 
 I am sorry, and begin to explain, when my own 
 line demands attention. My heart beats almost to 
 suffocation I am so excited I must scream but no, 
 that will scare the fish ! Both men begin instruct- 
 ing me, but I beg them piteously to leave me alone 
 I have an idea, and want to follow it. One ! two ! 
 three ! leaps he makes, but I never loose my hold, 
 and after a long and exciting chase, have the proud 
 distinction of landing the first and only tarpon 
 caught by our party for landing and hooking are 
 vastly different things !
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " The Lord tempers the wind to the shorn lamb." Sterne. 
 
 ONE day, about the middle of December, our 
 trustee bustled into the school-room, and 
 asked, " Aint he most dinnertime, Mees Nelson ?" 
 
 "In five minutes," I reply, wondering what he 
 wanted. 
 
 "Veil," he continues good naturedly, "let de 
 youngsters go. 1 haf someting to show you." 
 
 "What is it?" I ask, tapping the bell. 
 
 "Se out side bring your seester." 
 
 Peter is full of mystery, so I call Bess, and we 
 follow him eagerly to the play-ground. 
 
 There stands an Indian brave in buckskin mocca- 
 sins and leggins ! His dark blue shirt, belted at the 
 waist reaches his knees ; a gay plaid shawl, folded 
 on the bias, and wound into a turban is upon his 
 head ; through his belt sticks a murderous looking 
 kiiif e, and on his shoulders he carries the whole of 
 a, well dressed deer. 
 
 "He doesn't look very ferocious," I remark. 
 " Where did you find him ? 
 
 "Two-Tree come to trade," says Peter. "Me 
 pring him for you to see." 
 
 "Now," exclaims Bess, " we can buy venison from 
 a real Seminole Indian ! Say, Mr. Indian, how 
 much for your venison ?" His only answer is a long 
 stare, and an unintelligible grunt.
 
 68 TWO LITTLE MAIDS, 
 
 " Why Miss Bessie," laughs Syd, " you must break 
 up your English, or he wont understand a word." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Oh you listen I'll buy the venison for you. 
 Hello Billy ! Fine deer, you got him?" 
 
 " Uh-huh," answers the Indian, making that inar- 
 ticulate sound which means yes so easy to make, 
 but hard to spell. 
 
 "Me buy him," continues Syd. "Money you 
 want him how much ?" 
 
 " Deer you have him " answers the brave, " two 
 dollar." 
 
 "Whole deer too much ojus. One ham we want 
 him how much ?" 
 
 "Twenty-five cent." 
 
 "All right cut him off." 
 
 He lays his burden upon the grass, and taking the 
 knife from his belt, cuts off a haunch of venison. 
 Bess and 1 both attempt conversation, but he prob- 
 ably scorns "white squaw," for our efforts are fruit- 
 less. Syd, however, seems a favorite, and they con- 
 fabulate fluently. 
 
 " Squaw you got 'em ?" questions Syd. 
 
 He gives a negative grunt, then adds, " Bime-by 
 me ketch him." 
 
 " See," says Syd gravely, pointing first to Peter, 
 then to Bess and me, " Red-beard, big chief two 
 squaw he got 'em." 
 
 The Indian looks stolidly into our laughing faces, 
 then answers coolly, "You lie." 
 
 Syd changes the subject. 
 
 " Turkey you see 'em you shoot 'em ?" 
 
 Another inarticulate negative. 
 
 " SiLc-us-chay " (all gone). 
 
 "Wyomy you buy him?"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 69 
 
 "Wyomy holy-wogus ! (no good). Send Indian, 
 holy-wogus, to hell." 
 
 " Venison you bring him again soon ? " 
 
 " Uh-huh. Two moons me bring him." 
 
 " When you hy-e-pus ? to-day ? " 
 
 "Uh-huh. Good-bye." 
 
 He leaves us as suddenly as he came, his broad 
 shoulders bending beneath his heavy load. 
 
 Syd, who understands all about such things, car- 
 ries our venison home, carefully cuts the meat from 
 the bone, salts and hangs in a cool place. 
 
 The Captain is delighted that we are pleased with 
 our first Indian visitor, and promises again to make 
 up a party to invade their camp. 
 
 We go next week to a sugar-boiling dance, from 
 which we expect much amusement. 
 
 We are having such a lovely winter our patrons 
 are pleased, their children happy and de trustee en- 
 chanted. What more could we desire ? True, our 
 neighbors are uncultured, but their kindness is un- 
 bounded. 
 
 Then, of all delightful things, we have our own 
 house, and can do, say and think just what we 
 please. I am more thankful each day that we broke 
 away from Uncle's cramped home-nest ; for I am al- 
 ways disagreeable when constrained to do, or not to 
 do. And poor, dear old Uncle even denied us the 
 feminine luxury of discussing our neighbors. 1 
 verily believe he would have controlled our thoughts 
 had it been possible; but they, thank God, are 
 sacred. 
 
 "Coming events cast their shadows before," says 
 a wise writer and I certainly agreed with him that 
 evening.
 
 70 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 We are, as usual, entertaining our musical friends, 
 when the Captain enters, followed by "de Jupeans." 
 
 "Dare he are, Mees Nelsonn." He hands me a 
 letter. 
 
 " It is from Auntie ?" I exclaim, tearing the envel- 
 ope. " Excuse me, please, I have not heard from 
 them in some time." 
 
 " He gan vait. I haf only voii leetle minute to 
 hear you sing ; you vil eh ?" 
 
 " Yes ;" I stick my letter in my belt, " but what is 
 your hurry ? " 
 
 "Pizness letters, vot must pe wrote for de morn- 
 int's mail. Come, you sing ' Marguerite ' he ish so 
 sad und scheet." 
 
 He disappears with the last strains of the song, 
 and our other guests, who usually follow his exam- 
 ple, do likewise. The Scotchmen, however, beg to 
 remain; and, as they have just entered, we can 
 hardly refuse. 
 
 " I must read my letter," I say, opening it again. 
 It is short, and to the point : 
 
 DEAR NEL : 
 
 Your Uncle has taken the Florida fever, and in- 
 sists on spending the winter with you. We start 
 day after to-morrow, and will probably reach you 
 as soon as this. Engage board or furnished rooms 
 for us, and oblige, AUNTIE." 
 
 " ' Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! " ' I 
 cry in horror. 
 
 "What has happened ?" all ask in alarm. 
 
 " Something awful ! " I answer in despair. 
 
 " Is Uncle ill, or dead 9" asks Bess. 
 
 " Worse than that far worse. He is coming to 
 spend the winter with us !"
 
 A 'TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 71 
 
 'Merciful heavens !" she cries, "what have we 
 done to deserve such terrible punishment ?" 
 
 " And only think," I continue mournfully, " he 
 may remain till Spring. I expect them to-morrow. 
 Oh, I wish dear old Peter was hear ! I know he 
 would help us out of the ' de-fik'ulty.' " 
 
 "Perhaps we can aid you," suggests Mr. Kieth. 
 
 " Command us, Miss Kieth," says Kenneth. "We 
 would gladly serve you." 
 
 "Would you ? I should be eternally grateful. You 
 see, Uncle is terribly eccentric, which, of course, is 
 very trying. You must humor his whims, or he will 
 dislike you intensely, and take no trouble to disguise 
 his feelings. Then, he is so very industrious, that 
 if he comes down here with nothing to do, he will 
 torment us beyond endurance. Now, that I have 
 told the simple truth, can you make the sacrifice ?" 
 
 "Of course we can." 
 
 "Remember," I continue, byway of warning, "he 
 is very disagreeable ; he will think nothing of call- 
 ing you chuckle-head, idiot, or even fool /" 
 
 " ' What's in a name ?' " quotes Mr. Kieth. 
 
 "And you will honestly try to keep him away 
 from us ?" 
 
 " Yes ; we will take him tarpoiiing, and encour- 
 age him to swear at the big fish, instead of our- 
 selves. In fact, we shall tire him so completely 
 that he will gladly retire early ; and, as your West- 
 ern poet would say, 'the subsequent proceedings 
 will interest him no more.' " 
 
 "Well," I return, full of gratitude, "if you do so 
 much in the cause of helpless womankind, I am 
 sure you will be properly rewarded above." 
 
 " I expect an earthly recompense," remarks Ken- 
 neth, with a sly look at Bess.
 
 72 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " Blessed are they that expect nothing;" laughs 
 she, "for they shall not be disappointed." 
 
 " I do not know where to put them," I continue, 
 " unless we give them this room ; and that would 
 break into our gatherings," 
 
 " Why," says Bess, " they can have our room, and 
 we'll sleep here. The boys can help us move things 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Don't worry too much," says Kieth, as he says 
 good-night. 
 
 "Very comforting advice, if one could follow it," 
 I return mournfully. " I unfortunately, am not a 
 strong-minded female." 
 
 "I should never call you a clinging vine," he 
 laughs. 
 
 "Hardly though I greatly admire the sturdy 
 oak." 
 
 "Still, you never cling." 
 
 " No, I like independence." 
 
 " But the oak loves the vine." 
 
 " Perhaps but good-night, and many thanks for 
 your timely assistance."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Men think all men mortal but themselves." Young. 
 
 ONE of Uncle's peculiarities is a great aversion 
 to spider-webs, dirt-dauber's nests, flies, mos- 
 quitoes and insects of any kind. Auntie, owing to 
 her weak eyes and disinclination for hard work, is 
 not so pronounced. If the breakfast table was liter- 
 ally covered with ants, or the wall and ceiling grace- 
 fully draped with cobweb, she remained blissfully 
 unconscious of her sins of omission till rudely 
 awakened to their enormity by her grumbling spouse. 
 So, with a lively recollection of his keen eyes and 
 sharp tongue, we sweep, dust and scrub our abode. 
 There is not a servant in the neighborhood, so we 
 set manfully to work, Syd and George helping 
 us. 
 
 The Captain, who went "wid de steamer," prom- 
 ised to devote himself to our relative on the return 
 trip, and our Scotchmen, I know, will be towers of 
 strength. 
 
 I am afraid I am really learning to like my enemy. 
 He has been so kind and considerate, so thoughtful 
 and tender, that at times I almost forget that horrid 
 letter. 
 
 In due time the steamer whistles, and we, attend- 
 ed by the whole school, rush to the wharf. 
 
 Auntie sheds a few tears of joy as she warmly 
 embraces us ; but Uncle, after a cold little peck up-
 
 74 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 on our foreheads, looks suspicious, as he says, 
 grumpily : 
 
 "What the dickens have you been doing with 
 yourselves since you left ? You actually look 
 happy." 
 
 "We are," retorts saucy Bess. 
 
 "Nothing like occupation," I reply, trying to 
 avert a homily. 
 
 "Why, who is that?" cries Bess, in surprise. 
 "Why, it can't be yes, it is " 
 
 " Are you surprised to see me ?" Mr. King looks 
 searchingly into my sister's coquettish face, as he 
 warmly presses her little hand. 
 
 " Yes ; " she answers, " but delighted ! " 
 
 " You might have said you were coming," I re- 
 mark, wondering where on earth he will dispose of 
 himself. 
 
 Mr. Kieth, whom I sometimes fancy is a mind- 
 reader, says pleasantly : 
 
 "As M - cannot boast of a hotel, Mr. King, I 
 hope you will share our lodgings. We are, I pre- 
 sume, here for the same sport, so must necessarily 
 prove congenial spirits." 
 
 " You are very kind " begins Mr. King. 
 
 " Not at all," interrupts the other. "Kenneth and 
 I are just longing for another fellow to listen to our 
 big fish stories. Say yes, and we'll conduct you in 
 ctate to our floating palace," making a grandilo- 
 quent gesture towards their launch. 
 
 " Of course he'll say yes ;" laughs Bess, " and be 
 thankful for the opportunity. Good-by, you may 
 all come up after supper." 
 
 "Who are those young chuckle-heads?" asks 
 Uncle, scowling upon their retreating forms. 
 
 " They are Scotch," 1 return shortly.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 75 
 
 " Umph ! You seem pretty thick, considering 
 you've not known them three months." 
 
 "Yes," I answer sweetly, "they have been most 
 kind lately and we appreciate their efforts accord- 
 ingly." 
 
 " Pshaw ! I don't approve of intimacy with per- 
 fect strangers. You know I objected to this cussed 
 project of yours, from the very beginning " 
 
 " Yes, I know you did but just look at that alli- 
 gator pear tree ! isn't it a beauty ? And did you 
 ever see anything prettier than that tall waving 
 bamboo ?" 
 
 "Oh they look well enough, but such taste ! I 
 tried to eat a sour-sop last night. You needn't 
 think to stuff me with these wretched fruits ! As 
 for your precious guava, the very smell will knock 
 a man down. I would not give one good old Vir- 
 ginia apple for all your alligator-pears, custard- 
 apples and mangoes in Christendom !" 
 
 " Hush !" I laugh, " you will be converted in less 
 than a month." 
 
 They are greatly surprised when we take them to 
 our own cozy home; and Uncle fuss.es and fumes. He 
 did not expect to, and will not settle down on us for 
 the winter, unless, indeed, he furnishes everything; 
 if not, he will return home on the next boat. So I 
 pacify him with a promise to share expenses. 
 
 The poor fellow growls as much as ever ; nothing 
 escapes him. But then, that is his normal condi- 
 tion. I am amused, though, at supper, when he 
 hands his saucer to be refilled with guavas, not 
 knowing 'twas the despised fruit he had so roundly 
 rated. 
 
 " Now this," he remarks, as he critically surveys 
 the beautifully colored fruit, from .which all seeds
 
 76 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 had been extracted, " is quite eatable. Reminds 
 me somewhat of strawberries. What do you call 
 it?" 
 
 " Guava," laughs Bess. 
 
 " Pshaw ! You cannot fool me. What is it, 
 Nel ? " 
 
 How disgusted he was ! Sat there growling, at 
 everything under the sun. He swore that oranges 
 were nothing more than sweetened water; mangoes 
 a mixture of tow, sugar and turpentine ; avocado 
 pears soap ; cocoanuts, bananas and pineapples, 
 indigestible stuff unfit for the stomach of any de- 
 cent man." 
 
 I was not sorry when a stream of company inter- 
 rupted this tirade. 
 
 "What are those people coming here for? "he 
 demands crossly. 
 
 " Oh," I answer, " we have company every even- 
 ing." 
 
 " Umph ! I hope they do not stay late ?" 
 
 "Not very. We usually get to bed by eleven 
 o'clock." 
 
 "Well, I'll be-doggoned if I'm going to sit up that 
 late !" 
 
 "Why, no. Go to bed when you like we won't 
 mind,' 
 
 He talks pleasantly enough to our friends, and, to 
 my surprise, seems deeply interested in the Scotch- 
 men. 
 
 "I say, Mr. Kieth," he calls, "are you and my 
 girls related ? " 
 
 "I do. not know;" returns my enemy, "but hope 
 we may be," 
 
 " You are from Scotland?" 
 
 "Yes?"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 77 
 
 " Well, they have a rascally cousin over there, 
 that's just cheated them but of a cool million." 
 
 " Really ?" much interested. 
 
 " Yes, and all because a d d will got mislaid. 
 
 We know, well enough, it was made in Nel's favor, 
 but " 
 
 "Uncle," I interrupt, not wishing him to discuss 
 this subject, "Mr. Lindsey is anxious to take you 
 tarponing to-morrow ; will you be too tired to 
 go?" 
 
 " Tired ? Do you take me for an old granny ? Of 
 course I will go !" and to my relief they launch into 
 a series of fish stories. 
 
 Of course, while they are so good, I must behave 
 decently to my enemy ; and how can I, when we 
 discuss property ? 
 
 Auntie and Mrs. Key son are having a quiet chat 
 on the sofa, Bess and Mr. King are similarly en- 
 gaged at the end of the room my enemy necesarily 
 falls to my lot. 
 
 " So you are a great heiress ?" he begins, looking 
 much interested. 
 
 " Yes, minus the money." 
 
 " But is there no hope of finding the will ? " 
 
 "I fear not." 
 
 " Have you seen him this scoundrelly cousin, 
 who defrauds you ?" 
 
 " How can you ask ?" I return indignantly. 
 
 " Why, you might compromise matters " 
 
 " Never ! Either all is mine, or nothing !" 
 
 Just then the clock strikes nine. Uncle breaks off 
 an unfinished sentence and starts for the door. 
 
 "All decent people should be in their beds," he re- 
 marks, as he disappears without a good-night. 
 Auntie dutifully follows in his wake.
 
 78 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 Our guests stare in mute amaze. 
 
 " Shall we follow suit ?" asks Kenneth. 
 
 " No," I answer. " Wait for danger signals." 
 
 " What are they ?" he laughs. 
 
 " The first will appear in a minute." 
 
 Sure enough, one of Uncle's shoes is thrown 
 heavily to the floor, shortly followed by it's fellow. 
 Our more timid guests start with dismay and depart 
 in haste ; but the Scotchmen and King remain for 
 further demonstrations. 
 
 After knocking down everything within reach, 
 he begins on his poor old throat ; clearing, scraping 
 and snorting to such an extent 1 am afraid he will 
 break a blood-vessel. 
 
 We enjoy this performance in silence. At last, 
 finding us still unmoved, he calls : 
 
 "Nell" 
 
 "Yes, Uncle." 
 
 " Have those young fools gone yet ?" 
 
 Our only answer is a shout of laughter. Now he 
 begins again : 
 
 " I say, girls, be sure you put out the light when 
 you go to bed if you ever get the chance to go." 
 
 "Very well, Uncle." 
 
 "We had better go, boys," says Kieth, "or he 
 will dislike us too much for further association." 
 
 " Then go at once," I say decidedly. "He must 
 like you our personal safety demands it. Good- 
 night and be sure you charm him off in the morn- 
 ing."
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but 
 not for love." Shakespeare. 
 
 TRUE to their promise, our Scotchmen adopt 
 Uncle , relieving us almost entirely of him. 
 To use his own expression, he is so " dead tired " on 
 reaching home, that he retires immediately after 
 supper, and is heard from no more till morning. 
 
 Auntie, who is having a delightfully peaceful 
 visit, often wishes that tarpon fishing could last the 
 rest, of their natural lives. 
 
 Uncle, surprising to relate, has taken a strong 
 fancy to our Scotch friends especially Kieth and 
 never tires of praising them. De Captain, unfortu- 
 nately, is not so favored. For Peter is what Auntie 
 calls a "patient sitter," and, like Uncle himself, is 
 too dogmatic and excitable for argument. 
 
 Bess is in her element, with "two strings to her 
 bow," and plays her cards well keeping both men 
 happy. I sometimes wonder which she prefers, but 
 doubt if she really knows. Both men, if I judge 
 correctly, have strong, passionate natures and will 
 brook no trifling. I am curious to see the result of 
 this double flirtation. 
 
 Auntie and Uncle decline accompanying us to the 
 Sugar-house dance. So, after an early supper, we
 
 80 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 join a merry wagon-full of young people, and start 
 for the frolic. 
 
 Loud sounds of dancing reach us long before we 
 arrive at the brilliantly lighted Sugar-house. They 
 are not "tripping the light, fantastic toe," neither 
 is it "fairy-like" music which greets us above the 
 wild shuffle of brogans, and the deafening shouts of 
 "Ladies to the right ! Swing or cheat ! Balance all ! 
 Hands all a-round ! Promenade all ! First Couple 
 out ! Swing ! Ladies' Chain !" etc., etc. 
 
 We enter. Sixteen couples are rushing through 
 a quadrille. The girls are gorgeous in red, blue and 
 yellow calicoes, profusely trimmed in course lace 
 and bright ribbons, their hair hanging loose upon 
 their shoulders. Most of the men are mill hands, 
 and wear colored flannel shirts, with their panta- 
 loons stuffed into long, rawhide boots. 
 
 An old darkey scrapes his violin, another picks 
 the banjo, while- a little negro boy strikes the tri- 
 angle. Set follows set, in rapid succession. Round 
 dances are unknown. We do not join the dancers ; 
 indeed, personal safety demands that we keep at a 
 respectful distance from this crowd of heavy shoes. 
 It is real enjoyment, though to watch the little airs 
 and graces of these rustic belles, the awkward ad- 
 vances of their admirers, and the good natured fun 
 so prevalent among them all. 
 
 By-and-by, the girls declare themselves "plumb 
 tired out," and insist on resting " a spell." A man, 
 whose grey flannel shirt is decorated with bright 
 red trimmings, who wears new and creaky boots, 
 .and flourishes a yellow silk handkerchief, now an- 
 nounces supper. There is a wild scramble for the 
 supper room. But he of the red trimmings guards 
 the door, permitting only a limited number to pass.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 81 
 
 When these, being satisfied, return, he announces, 
 " Them thet hes et will please set down, an' them 
 thet is ter eat kin step this way." 
 
 While the dancers are feasting, Peter and Mr. 
 Kieth approach the fiddler and ask some question; 
 he looks puzzled, shakes his head, then hands his 
 instrument to Peter. De Captain begins playing an 
 exquisite waltz. 
 
 " Can you resist that ?" asks my enemy. 
 
 "Who could?" I return as we glide over the 
 rough boards. 
 
 The others soon join us. 
 
 Mr. Kieth is a delighful partner; we seem to float 
 rather than touch the floor. 
 
 " How lovely ! " I exclaim, as the music ceases. 
 " I could go on forever !" 
 
 "Come outside;" he whispers, "the moon is per- 
 fect." 
 
 He throws a wrap about me, and we walk slowly 
 down the road till we reach the calm, moon-lit 
 creek. An old oak grows at the water's edge, and 
 to it is fastened a tiny boat. "Get in; " says my com- 
 panion. " I will row you up the stream." 
 
 On we go, scarcely uttering a word; so completely 
 are we bewitched by the wierd beauty of our sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 " Nel," he says, as we leave the boat and turn 
 towards the house, " you know I love you." 
 
 " Hush !" I exclaim impatiently. " You are spoil- 
 ing everything." 
 
 " But love, you must marry me some day." 
 
 " Marry you ? " 
 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 " I would see you in the lower regions first !" I cry 
 hotly. " You are adding -insult to injury, sir ! "
 
 82 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " Explain your words, Miss Kieth," his tone is po- 
 lite, but commanding. " You have insinuated too 
 much." 
 
 He certainly acts the injured man to perfection. 
 
 "Explanations are needless!" I return in lofty 
 scorn. "You have treated me as no gentleman 
 would, and now I hate yes, actually loathe you !" 
 I withdraw my hand from his arm, and for the next 
 few minutes we stand and glare angrily at each 
 other. Then to my utter disgust, he breaks into a 
 hearty laugh. 
 
 "Well, " I remark dryly, when he had somewhat 
 recovered, " I hope you enjoy the situation, /see 
 nothing to laugh at." 
 
 "I know," he returns apologetically, "I should 
 become tragic threaten to cut my throat, blow my 
 brains out, or some such bosh but you must excuse 
 me. I never could do the correct thing." 
 
 " Why do you laugh ?" I ask indignantly. " If you 
 really love me " 
 
 "That's just why," he laughs again. "I know 
 perfectly well that you return my love " 
 
 "I do not!" 
 
 "And are overpowering me with ugly names sim- 
 ply because you fancy I've wronged you. Come, 
 now, honor bright, don't you ?" 
 
 "Fancied ! can you deny " 
 
 " I deny nothing haven't the remotest idea what 
 crime you accuse me of but I know you love me, 
 and will one day tell me so." 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 " Yes you will, and I feel sure that you not 1 
 will do the final lovemaking." 
 
 " I shall leave, before you insult me further?" 1 
 exclaim, starting for the house.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 83 
 
 " This is nonsense, Nel," he turns in a perfect good 
 humor. " You will be my wife within a year, so 
 you may as well accept the inevitable." 
 
 " I shall never be your wife ! I despise you 
 utterly." 
 
 " Restrain your loving epithets ; they will hurt 
 you fearfully by-and-bye." 
 
 " You are mean, cowardly, and unmanly !" 
 
 "Remember," he warns, "you shall pay me in 
 kisses for all of this." 
 
 "And if you were, the last man on earth, I wouldn't 
 marry you !" 
 
 "My dear child, there is no use exhausting your- 
 self. I've made up my mind, and shall win you. 
 Nothing you say can alter me. And you when you 
 recover from this foolish prank will love me ardent- 
 ly. You do' now, but would die before you'd 
 own it." 
 
 "How I wish," I exclaim in despair, " you were 
 twenty years younger !" 
 
 I am terribly angry at being taken possession of 
 so calmly ; indignant that he won't understand how 
 I regard his past unkindness, and thoroughly dis- 
 gusted that I cannot force him to acknowledge his 
 outrageous conduct. 
 
 " I understand," he remarks leisurely, "it would 
 give you keen joy to punch my head would it not ?' 
 
 "Yes," I admit, with candor. 
 
 "Well, when we are married " 
 
 "If you do not let me alone, I will I will " 
 
 "For heaven's sake, don't cry !" 
 
 " Do you think I would shed one tear for you ? 
 
 "Yes. You will shed any quantity, when you 
 get home. I bet a tarpon your eyes are red tomor- 
 row."
 
 84 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " You are a brute ! A horrid- 
 
 "Vy, dare dey ish !" exclaims Peter; and I run 
 joyfully to meet him. 
 
 They are all ready to start back, he informs me, 
 so we hurry to the wagon and are soon driving 
 homeward. 
 
 " Let me sit by you, Captain ?" I beg. 
 
 " All ride !" he answers, with a pleasant laugh. 
 
 " I have a long account against you," whispers my 
 enemy, as, passing me, he settles down between 
 Bess and Miss Lang. 
 
 The air is cool, for it lacks but a week to Christ- 
 mas. I draw my wrap more closely about me, and 
 listen patiently to Peter's funny talk. The dear fel- 
 low is quite scientific, and just now is giving me a 
 lengthy dissertation on " de daclination ob de nort 
 star, de rorepory allis and de sun spots." 
 
 I lend one ear to Peter, the other to the gay 
 crowd behind. Bess is flirting outrageously, and 
 the others are no better. I turn, and give them a 
 stern look ; but good, indulgent old Peter says : 
 
 "Let dem alone. Dey haffin goot dimes; he ish 
 nottings." 
 
 They beg Mr. Kieth and me for a duet, but I re- 
 fuse. He then offers to sing alone, " provided our 
 prima donna will turn her face." I comply, being 
 overpowered by numbers; and he meanly looks 
 straight into my eyes as he sings " My Queen." 
 
 Music affects me powerfully ; and, though I des- 
 pise myself for relenting, I am drawn, irresistably, 
 to the singer. 
 
 He sings for me alone and every note thrills my very 
 soul ! But oh ! I am so disgusted with his baseness, 
 my weakness, the Captain's science and all the gay 
 clatter, that I am thankful when we reach home.
 
 A TALE OP SOUTH FLORIDA. 85 
 
 " My enemy springs forward to assist me, but I 
 turn to Peter. 
 
 "I will see you in the morning," he says laughing 
 lightly. 
 
 "You will not ; I shall be too busy," 
 
 But see him I did. School had just begun when 
 he appeared in the doorway. 
 
 Greatly against my will, I step forward and ask : 
 
 " What do you want ?" 
 
 "To examine your eyes," he returns coolly. 
 " Yes," after a critical inspection, "you did cry last 
 night." 
 
 "What right have you " 
 
 "Now, sweetheart " 
 
 " My name is Kieth /" I cry in great wrath. 
 
 " So is mine ; so you need only change the 
 Miss." 
 
 " Go!" I cry, rudely closing the door upon him.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Tis well to be off with the old love, 
 Before you are on with the new." 
 
 O ATUKDAY afternoon I steal out to finish a little 
 
 sketch I am making for Auntie's Christmas 
 present. 
 
 Regardless of red bugs, I sit flat upon the ground, 
 am soon completely absorbed in my work. 
 
 Suddenly, voices approach, and their owners, 
 unconscious of a listener, seat themselves within 
 hearing. How embarrassing ! But what can I do ? 
 
 1 am compelled to finish my work, for this is my 
 last leisure day. 
 
 To be sure, I might move; but this is my most advan- 
 tageous position. Shall I sacrifice art to good man- 
 ners? No. I determine to "turn a deaf ear," and 
 succeed admirably, until, in a moment of excite- 
 ment, they raise their voices, and I discover that 
 Bess and Mr. King are enjoying what they fondly 
 suppose to be a tete-a-tete. 
 
 I clear my throat and give a warning cough, but, 
 as they are too deeply engaged to observe these 
 warnings, I am forced to resign myself to the un- 
 enviable position of an eavesdropper. 
 
 ' ' Now, do not be absurd !" 
 
 " Absurd ? " he answers. " I have been as patient 
 as Job ! Human nature rebels against such treat- 
 ment. Surely you can choose between us. Come, 
 which is it ?"
 
 A TAL.E OF SOUTH FLORIDA-. 87 
 
 "How can I tell?" returns my provoking sister. 
 
 "Does your heart speak for neither?" 
 
 "Honestly, it does not; I am so fond of both, 
 that it is a regular case of ' how happy could I be 
 with either, were t'other dear charmer away.' ' 
 
 "You are trifling. You know I love you " 
 
 " You have told me often." 
 
 " And you promised to be my wife." 
 
 "Yes some day." 
 
 " Then why flirt so openly with another ?" 
 
 "I am not flirting only having a good time. 
 
 Surely you are not so selfish as to spoil fun ?" 
 
 " Then why not tell him of our engagement ? He 
 is desperately in love ; perhaps you will throw me 
 over and take him ! " 
 
 "Now don't be worrying. You know, very well, 
 I never pretended to love you only promised to 
 try. If you were content then why grumble now ? 
 Frankly, I do not love either of you, but am wonder- 
 fully fond of both." 
 
 " Are you in earnest ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then you are not the girl I thought you " 
 
 " Oh well, if yon are tired of what you are pleased, 
 to term our engagement, I am agreeable; do not 
 trouble yourself to be stiff and unfriendly, for it will' 
 have no effect." 
 
 "You are a heartless flirt !" 
 
 " What, beginning already ? Why can we not be 
 dear, good friends without this nonsense ?" 
 
 "Do you you think I enjoy seeing you engrossed 
 by that Scotchman?" 
 
 " Why not ? He is very handsome ! " 
 
 " Yes, too handsome !" 
 
 "You should feel proud that your sweetheart is so
 
 88 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 admired. Now I am charmed when girls think you 
 nice. I take it as a personal compliment ; for you 
 know, you belong to me.' 
 
 "And you to me?" 
 
 " Perhaps ; but you must not become jealous, and 
 disagreeable." 
 
 " I will be anything, put up with anything, if you 
 are only sweet !" 
 
 "Well, aint I always sweet? " 
 
 "No, you precious little humbug ! " 
 
 "You had better hush, if you can say nothing 
 nicer than that. We must go home anyhow, for the 
 sun is almost down." 
 
 Their voices gradually die away, and I am alone 
 once more. So this, then, is the situation two 
 lovers, and no decided preference. How will it end ? 
 I finish my work, and walk slowly homeward. Only 
 three days before Christmas, and so very much to 
 be done ; a tree for the children, decorations for the 
 school-housee, suitable music, and a number of 
 other things. But then, comes two weeks' 
 rest. 
 
 The steamer is just in, and Peter is walking up 
 the street beside a tall, slender woman. " Oh, my 
 prophetic soul !" Can she be Mrs. Lef on ? We ap- 
 proach. 'Tis she; a wave of disappointment sweeps 
 over my soul. I have an unaccountable dread of 
 this fair, calmly possessive widow. Of course I don't 
 believe in dreams, but somehow 
 
 " Good-evening, Miss Kieth," she says, in her 
 cool, sweet voice. 
 
 I shake her daintily gloved hand, but cannot ex- 
 press pleasure at seeing her. 
 
 " Where will you stop ?'' I ask, remembering my 
 manners. "We will call in a few davs."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 89 
 
 " At Mrs. Keyson's, for the present, but will visit 
 around generally," she returns. 
 
 "I am sorry/' I say, lying politely, "we are too 
 crowded to have you with us." 
 
 " Yes," she returns coolly, " I always stay in the 
 Captain's house. I bring my cook, and keep house 
 regularly." 
 
 " What a pity that I have usurped your place !" 
 She gives me a searching glance, but deciding my 
 remark is innocent, replies quietly, "I am content. 
 Of course it was unavoidable, and the Captain did 
 not know I would object. Ah, here we are at your 
 gate good-night ! I will expect you soon." 
 
 How tiresome ! I wonder how long she will stay ? 
 Of course she will monopolize " de Captain," and so 
 throw me still more with my enemy. His manner 
 is so cool and aggravating that it almost maddens me; 
 for he insists that I love him, and only laughs when 
 I vow that I detest him. Resist as I may, he is 
 always victorious, and so exasperatingly good- 
 natured ! 
 
 I am bound to confess that he possesses a strange 
 power over me ; his voice draws me irresistibly. 
 And when he sings, I love him intensely, and long 
 to throw my arms about him and have him draw 
 me close, close to his heart. But, through it all, I 
 never forget he is my enemy. Though he assumes 
 the air of an accepted lover, and tvill call me " Nel," 
 he has never attempted to touch me for which I 
 am devoutly thankful but teasingly declares I shall 
 pay exorbitant interest later on. I am under ever- 
 lasting obligations for his kindness to Uncle ; and 
 then, what can a poor girl do when a handsome 
 man assumes such masterful possession ? 
 
 The Captain drops in for a few moments after sup-
 
 90 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 per to ask if Mrs. Lefon may join our Indian ex. 
 cursion. 
 
 I tell him candidly that I will not enjoy it and 
 would rather not go. 
 
 " Veil den, spose ve not see de Injunts dis time, 
 but vait for de green corn dance ?" 
 
 " When is that ?" 
 
 " Oh, he long in de sphring, ven de rostin-years 
 coom. Dey haf pig doins at dot dance, und he last 
 tree day und night ! You like him eh ?" 
 
 " Very well. Of course I'm disappointed, but can 
 manage very well without the trip." 
 
 " No indeeds ! me got noter drip ve go up de riv- 
 er, und camp two tree day at Fort T . Vot you 
 
 dinks mit him ?" 
 
 " Oh that will be lovely ! Just our same crowd ?" 
 
 " Und Mees Lefon." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose she'll have to come." 
 
 "Me ferry sorry but," with a quaint little shrug, 
 " vot kin I do ? Vot for you not lof e her ? Se fine 
 vomans." 
 
 "Why," I laugh, "because she takes you away 
 from me. Do you think I like that ?" 
 
 "You know I lofe but you !" he exclaims, blush- 
 ing hotly. 
 
 " But I know you'll marry her, one of these days." 
 I answer teasingly. 
 
 " Neffer ! I vont none but you, und you I can 
 not haf !" 
 
 "'Actions speak louder than word." ' I laugh. 
 " What ! going already ? I wish, you a charming 
 evening, with the fair widow."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " There is a pleasure in the pathless woods." Byron. 
 
 AWAY we steam, up stream. The Indians were 
 true to nature in calling this lovely stream 
 " Caloosahatchee " " beautiful river." Beautiful 
 Island and her sister keys are far behind, and the 
 river narrows at every bend. The low banks are 
 completely covered by tropic vegetation ; lofty cab- 
 bage palms mingling their graceful foliage with the 
 darker green of immense, moss draped cypress trees 
 and lovely water oaks. Every bend discloses grand 
 old trees, gracefully entwined with drooping vines, 
 many of which are filled with flowers. 
 
 Brilliant orchids adorn the trunks of both oaks 
 and palms, while, just at the water's edge, nestle , 
 clusters of pure white lilies. 
 
 The waters are clear, possessing wonderful reflec- 
 tive qualities. The grassy slope, with its thick mass 
 of foliage, each blade of grass and half opened 
 flower is beautifully reflected ; so accurately indeed, 
 that the mirrored object is more attractive than its 
 counterpart. Alligators float lazily about, and some 
 few are sunning themselves upon floating logs or 
 fallen trees. Our sportsmen are constantly shoot- 
 ing, but rarely hit one ; for Mr. 'Gator, when in 
 danger, ducks his head, to appear at a safer dis- 
 tance. 
 
 We are more successful with wild ducks, how-
 
 92 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 ever ; and Mr. King actually kills a water-turkey, 
 which he promises to have mounted for Bess. 
 
 Uncle growls every time he misses, but keeps on 
 shooting, with pertinacity worthy of a better 
 cause. 
 
 De Captain is completely absorbed by Mrs. Lefon. 
 He makes desperate efforts to be civil to me, but she 
 frustrates every attempt. 
 
 " I think she'll propose this trip," whispers Syd. 
 "I" '11 keep an eye on them, and we'll have some 
 fun." 
 
 " Hush ! you rascal ! " I say reprovingly. 
 
 " Oh, I know a few things," he returns wisely. 
 
 "Well," I continue, "don't let your thirst for 
 knowledge lead you into disgraceful eavesdrop- 
 ping." 
 
 " Now, Miss Nel, you needn't preach. There's no 
 harm in a little lark like that. I dearly love to 
 hear folks spoon ; it sounds so silly, you 
 know." 
 
 " Dear boy, wait till you sprout a moustache ; 
 your sentiments will change with each downy 
 hair." 
 
 " What do you take me for ?" he demands indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 Syd is well versed in Indian lore, and tells me 
 much that transpired on these now peaceful shores 
 " long before either of us were born; " but 'tis hard 
 to believe that these calm blue waters have really 
 witnessed such fearful tragedies. 
 
 We camp for the night at Ft. D ; but, though 
 
 a voting precinct, and post office, the houses and 
 inhabitants are "conspicuous by their absence." 
 
 There was, during the Indian wars, a line of forts 
 and block-houses, extending along the river from
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 93 
 
 Fort T- to M : , but not the slightest sign 
 
 of fortification exists to-day. True, M possesses 
 
 several objects of historic interest the soldier's 
 cemetery, the old cement cistern, and the date-palm 
 planted by General Hancock's daughter. But alack- 
 a-day ! Those who " could a tale unfold," which, 
 no doubt "would harrow up our souls," and, by its 
 horrible details of rapine and massacre " cause each 
 particular hair to stand on end," have long since 
 departed to " that undiscovered country, whence no 
 traveller returns." 
 
 We stretch our bars, for the mosquitoes are out ir- 
 force ; then watch Mrs. Lefon and de Captain pre 
 pare supper. Strictly speaking, he does the work, 
 while she looks on approvingly. Her long, slender 
 white hands would look decidedly out of place 
 among pots and pans. She is a bit of Dresden 
 china not so useful as common delf, but so fair to 
 look upon. 
 
 Uncle, I am delighted to say, is pleased for once 
 in his life ; for he has proved the most successful 
 fisherman of our party. Ten minutes after landing, 
 he brings to camp a string of black bass perfect 
 beauties and is in such a splendid humor, that he 
 forgets to grumble. But alas ! it is short lived. We 
 retire ; and the drowsy god is just wooing me into 
 dreamland, when my rosy visions are rudely broken 
 by an angry snort. 
 
 " What the devil does this mean ?" cries our ogre. 
 ' I would like to know what idiot let these cussed 
 insects into my bar ! No one but a heathen or a 
 Florida cracker could sleep in such a swarm ! Who 
 did it, I say !" 
 
 We all deny the offence, and assist, with much 
 warmth in routing the invaders.
 
 94 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 I shrewdly suspect Syd,, but am too sleepy for in- 
 vestigation. 
 
 I do not know how long we had slept, when an- 
 other terrific yell brings a head from each bar. Oh, 
 what a sight greets us ! 
 
 The ruddy camp fire reveals to our startled gaze, 
 my dignified Uncle, prancing i wildly about in un- 
 dress uniform, making frantic efforts to kill some 
 object upon the ground. 
 
 " What's the matter ?" we cry in alarm. 
 
 " Snakes !" he roars, renewing his efforts at de- 
 struction. 
 
 " Vot in de debble ish you raisin dis shindy for?" 
 inquires Peter angrily. 
 
 " U mph !" growls Uncle, " I'd like to see the man 
 that wouldn't raise a row to find a rattlesnake in 
 his bed ! I might as well be in India as this God- 
 forsaken place." 
 
 " Oh, come now, draw it mild ! " cries Syd, who 
 has just recovered from a paroxysm of laughter. 
 " You can't make us believe that a snake deliber- 
 ately crawled into your bar for companionship. 
 Florida snakes are more discriminating." 
 
 " Did you kill it ? " Auntie nervously enquires. 
 
 "Oh," says Syd, "it's dead enough! If it had 
 stayed there a week 'twould not have bitten him !" 
 
 " What do you know about it, you young rascal ?" 
 
 " I don't tell all I know," returns the saucy lad. 
 
 " I wish you would go to bed," moans Bess. "I 
 am so sleepy." 
 
 "And Uncle," I plead, "please do not rouse us 
 up again. I know I shall have a terrible head- 
 ache." 
 
 " Yes," he growls, " you do nothing but grumble, 
 grumble, grumble ! If you think 1 am going to
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 95 
 
 sleep with snakes and other vile reptiles, you are 
 mistaken ! But that is just the way ! some people 
 have neither love nor gratitude for their own flesh 
 and blood. If you had listened to me you would 
 have stayed at home; then I would not be in this 
 cussed country! I wish to the Lord I was 
 back " 
 
 " Amen !" comes devoutly from Syd. 
 
 "You young scoundrel " 
 
 " Good-night, Uncle," I say with the vain hope of 
 quieting him. 
 
 But no ; he sits there grumbling to his heart's 
 content; abusing us collectively and individually. 
 Most of the vituperation falls on poor little me ; for, 
 was not I the arch-fiend who, by my glowing des- 
 cription, inveigled him to this "cussed country?" 
 
 I wish, from the depth of my heart that I had 
 never written a word of praise. I never asked, nor 
 wanted him to come, and now truly, " the way of 
 the transgressor is hard."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " The woman who throws herself at a man's head, will soon find 
 herself at his feet." Desnoyers. 
 
 NEXT morning we steam higher up the river to 
 Fort T , where we spend two days hunt- 
 ing and fishing. I am glad I brought my sketch- 
 book, for the scenery is picturesquely beautiful. 
 
 I am surprised, the morning after our arrival, to 
 be joined by Mr. Kieth, his hands full of drawing 
 material. 
 
 "We may as well work together," he remarks, 
 seating himself near me. " What point are you 
 taking? Ah/' looking over my shoulder, "that is 
 good. I shall sketch those oaks, showing a glimpse 
 of prairie beyond their grand old trunks, and the 
 flowing river as a foreground." 
 
 " j* nd those fleecy clouds will make a lovely back- 
 ground." 
 
 "Yes, they take the place of mountains, I shall 
 copy mine in oils, and throw in an Indian or 
 two." 
 
 " Indeed ! Where will you procure a model ?" 
 
 "Oh," coolly, "I shall accompany you to the green- 
 corn dance." 
 
 " What !" I cry with indignation. " Stay till June 
 just for that ?" 
 
 " Not entirely," he answers calmly. " But really, 
 Nel, do you imagine I will leave until you become 
 my wife ?"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 97 
 
 " Then, you will stay forever !" I cry hotly. 
 
 "Oh well," much composed, "the climate suits 
 me admirably." 
 
 "The climate is well enough; but I am going to 
 the mountains next summer." 
 
 "So am I." 
 
 " Have you nothing to do ? " I ask in scorn. "I 
 despise an idler." 
 
 " Present company of course, excepted." 
 
 "A man who wastes all of his time and brains (if 
 he has any) on hunting and fishing, is utterly con- 
 temptible !" 
 
 " Certainly, dear girl, I agree with you, heartily." 
 
 " Then why do it ?" 
 
 " I do not. You forget, I am simply waiting for 
 my wife." 
 
 "You are the most exasperating creature I ever 
 met I" 
 
 "I can return the compliment," he laughs. 
 
 " I tell you, once for all 'I shall never marry 
 you ! " 
 
 " You shall," he returns quietly. "And moreover, 
 you will repent in sackcloth and ashes of theseQnean 
 little speeches. When we are married I shall 
 
 " Let me alone !" I cry desperately. 
 
 " Nel," he says tenderly, "why struggle against 
 your fate ? You are mine by that inscrutable law 
 which binds heart to heart, soul to soul ! Neither of 
 us can sever the sacred cord which draws us invol- 
 untarily together ; for Love is an attribute of God 
 Himself, and lives through all eternity !" 
 
 " You would soon tire of the sacred cord if you 
 lived with me ; for I am closely related to Uncle." 
 
 " Oh I like a, woman with temper. We can quar- 
 rel, then enjoy the sweets of reconciliation."
 
 98 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " But I am to become Mrs. Peter; a handsome 
 couple eh? " 
 
 " Nonsense ! The widow is far ahead." 
 
 "I shall never believe it," I return with warmth. 
 
 But alas for my hopes ! As we sit, busily work- 
 ing, the couple under discussion slowly approach. 
 We see them from afar, even catching an occasional 
 word, but they are too deeply engrossed to perceive 
 us. 
 
 " It is coming ! " 
 
 Syd, with light, cautious footsteps, has just joined 
 us. 
 
 " I have been watching them over an hour. Now 
 for some fun ! " he smothers a laugh. 
 
 " What mischief are you up to ?" enquires Mr. 
 Kieth. 
 
 " Oh nothin' !" with an innocent grin. " You just 
 wait." 
 
 "Why," I explain, "Syd is vainly hoping that 
 Mrs. Lefon will propose to dear old Peter.' 
 
 " Syd's head is level," laughs my enemy. " Your 
 chances grow beautifully less." 
 
 " Then," I return feelingly, " we must watch, and 
 when she makes it too hot for the poor fellow, rush 
 to the rescue." 
 
 "Yes," admits Kieth, "a man is calculated to 
 need assistance under such conditions." 
 
 "I say, Mr. Kieth, "exclaims Syd," what would' 
 you do if a woman Miss Nel, for instance should 
 tackle you ! " 
 
 " Hush, Syd ! " I cry. Don't be silly." 
 
 " I don't mind telling you," returns Kieth, looking 
 straight into my eyes, " that when Miss Nel proposes 
 I shall accept, and expect you to dance at our wed- 
 ding."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 99 
 
 "You may, Syd, when I propose ! " I return with 
 dignity. 
 
 " Oh I'll bet on you, Miss Nel. I know you'll never 
 do it. Now, I," in a pompous tone, "would not 
 marry a woman who was so bold as to do the court- 
 ing. I'd scorn her !" 
 
 "That depends," Mr. Kieth laughs. "But soft, 
 what is the fair one saying ?" 
 
 Our friends are now sitting at the foot of a giant 
 oak ; and, though we hear each word, we can neither 
 see nor be seen. 
 
 Syd, with the daring of young America, is con- 
 stantly reconnoitering ; and furnishes us with such 
 important information as " she looks fondly into 
 his eyes now she takes his hand he wriggles un- 
 easily moves farther from her she follows with re- 
 lentless speed." 
 
 "You know, Captain," the fair Lillian's voice 
 comes soft and low, "how lonely I have been since 
 since my poor " 
 
 "Sobs into her handkerchief," Syd reports, peep- 
 ing from our retreat. 
 
 "Yas!" Peter exclaims, much agitated. "Me 
 know all bout him !" 
 
 " And you Captain, dear Captain " 
 
 " Mine Gott ! " the poor fellow exclaims. 
 
 " Could make it so much easier for me," she con- 
 tinues plaintively. 
 
 Peter is silent a moment, evidently collecting his 
 wits, then asks boldly : 
 
 " Vot you vornt mit me ?" 
 
 " To marry me," she returns calmly, as though 
 she had asked him to dine. 
 
 "Shimmiiiy crickets !" actually yells do Captain. 
 " Vot you dakes me for ? eh ? Mans asks vomans to
 
 100 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 marry mit him he ish no goot for voomans to ask 
 mans ! No goot ! No goot ! ' 
 
 "But dear Captain," she goes on tenderly, "I've 
 waited so long, and you would not ask me besides, 
 you know, it is almost leap-year, when we have a 
 perfect right to propose." 
 
 " I dontd gare ! I dontd gare ! I neffar vont likes 
 you no more !" 
 
 "Only think," she pleads artfully, "how many 
 nice German dishes I'll have cooked for you. You 
 know how well I understand your taste." 
 
 "Dot ish so," he acknowledges, softening slightly. 
 
 ' And I am rich," she continues eloquently, follow- 
 ing closely her slight advantage. "You need not 
 work so hard, but spend long, beautiful days amid 
 Love, music, and flowers !" 
 
 "Lofe?" he exclaims, somewhat bewildered, "I 
 lofe not you. Nother vomans I lofe mooch already. 
 Vot den ?" 
 
 "What!" she cries indignantly, "you love 
 another ? " 
 
 " Yas," he returns, unconscious of offence. 
 
 " Wretched man ! Do you know what you have 
 done ?" 
 
 "Beats her breast hysterically !" reports Syd. 
 
 "No," answers Peter innocently, " vot me done ?" 
 
 "You have wrecked three lives !" she cries im- 
 pulsively. " Do you think I shall let her marry you? 
 Never ! I'd see her dead at my feet yes, this hand 
 should strike the blow before she becomes your 
 wife !" 
 
 "Now, den, dontd you get oxcited," says Peter 
 soothingly. "Se not lofe me von leetle bits se 
 laugh mit fun ven I say ' I lofe you.' See ?" 
 
 " Then dear, dear Peter, let me comfort you. I
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 101 
 
 will '.love and cherish you 'till death us do part,' " 
 she returns solemnly. 
 
 "Mees Lefon," he says gravely, "I can neffar 
 marry. I dells you von secret mine fader vos a 
 prince, und mine mudder vos not his wife. You 
 see ?" 
 
 "My own dear Peter!" she exclaims tenderly. 
 " Do you think that would matter to one who loves 
 you? You are noble, grand, a king among men !'' 
 
 "You see," he continues, "I haf no name to gif 
 you none dot mine childens could wear mit honor. 
 So den, I vill neffar marry vill raise no childens to 
 curse mine memory." 
 
 "Oh Captain," she exclaims warmly, "you are 
 the grandest, noblest, most self-sacrificing " 
 
 "It ish nottings!" he interrupts hurriedly. 
 " Gome long, let's find de odder peoples." They 
 rise, and with their backs still to us, walk quietly 
 away. 
 
 " Well," says Syd, "what do you think?" 
 
 " That Peter is the loveliest man in the world, and 
 we the meanest, lowest wretches for listening," I re- 
 turn warmly. 
 
 "Exactly my sentiments," says Kieth. "Few 
 men could have resisted as he did." 
 
 " 1 am sorry for old Peter," remarks Syd, "but the 
 widow needs no sympathy. But you know, I should 
 not be surprised if she got him after all unless your 
 pity becomes * akin to love.' " 
 
 "Oh she's bespoken," laughs my enemy. 
 
 " I am not !" I cry hotly. " I'll be Mrs. Peter yet, 
 or die in the attempt."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ' A jealous man wishes himself a kind of deity to the person he loves; 
 he would be the only employment of her thoughts." Addi son. 
 
 MRS. LEFON, I am pleased to relate, has at last 
 departed. Poor Peter has been in hot water; 
 for, since that unfortunate proposal, her attentions 
 have been more marked than ever. She evidently 
 thinks "while there's life, there's hope," and will 
 not resign him without a struggle. He has made 
 many efforts to escape her, but who could succeed 
 against such fearful odds ? I, who aided and abet- 
 ted him in these noble endeavors, was utterly routed, 
 and literally forced to take a " back seat." Though 
 her words were always smooth and polite, her eyes 
 said plainly, "He is mine. Touch him at your 
 peril !" 
 
 Uncle speaks of returning home, and we do not 
 urge him to remain. He has done all in his power 
 to render us unhappy and, but for our Scotchmen 
 would have succeeded beyond his expectation. 
 They have simply *' spread themselves " in our 
 service taking him off every day, and actually 
 carrying him for a three weeks' cruise on their 
 yacht ! 
 
 Mr. King has returned, with no more definite un- 
 derstanding than when he came ; and now Kenneth 
 has the monopoly
 
 A TALE OP SOUTH FLORIDA. 103 
 
 Does Bess love him ? If so. she never shows it, 
 and only time can tell. 
 
 Dear old Peter is growing terribly jealous of my 
 enemy. 
 
 "Hetinksyou pelongs to hims ! " he exclaimed 
 angrily. 
 
 " But I don't, and never shall !" I return sooth- 
 ingly. 
 
 " He lofe you mooch und you you do effer-tings 
 for him, ven he sing you lofe him den !" 
 
 "I do not !" I cry, though I have acknowledged 
 the same to myself. 
 
 " Den he mek you sing he mek you look stwait in 
 his eyes he mek you blenty dings, like you vos pe- 
 long mit him ! " 
 
 "You are mistaken Captain, I simply try to please 
 all my friends ; don't I always sing for you ? " 
 
 " Ya-a-s," he acknowledges, " but he go eff ry vere 
 mit you. I neffar gets you no more." 
 
 " What nonsense! You've been much too busy 
 with Mrs. Lefon to think of me." 
 
 "Oh," he cries delightedly, "you jallous ob her?" 
 
 " Of course," I answer, humoring his vanity. 
 
 " Den," much pleased, "if se dontd lofe dot Scotch- 
 man, se go mit me on de sail to nide eh ?" 
 
 " Certainly. I expected to ask for your company. 
 This is Leap Year, you remember." 
 
 " Yas, me know," he blushes a rosy red. 
 
 "Why Captain," I cry in mischief, "one would 
 imagine some lady had proposed to you." 
 
 " Hush !" he cries in alarm, "I shant dell you 
 nottings ! Me gone goot-pye !" he seizes his hat 
 and rushes forth, leaving me to finish my laugh 
 alone. 
 
 How shall I describe my enemy's crestfallen look
 
 104 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 when, in my coolest manner I inform him that I 
 have an escort, or his indignant scowl when Peter's 
 beaming face appeared ? 
 
 Suffice it to say, the whole affair was charming. 
 With music, moonlight and flirtation, who could be 
 dull? 
 
 And that homeward walk can I ever forget it ? 
 
 Now, I cannot disguise the fact, that dear Peter 
 is not a graceful walker. Having " tacked " a great 
 deal through life, his gait, naturally, partakes of 
 his nautical occupation, producing an uneven 
 motion, more eccentric than beautiful. However, 
 I possess the consoling knowledge that our appear- 
 ance is striking ; and that I am envied by more than 
 one ''female sister." As we walk homeward, deep 
 in the discussion of " de moons ob Marse," Mr. Kieth 
 passes with a conciliatory " good-night." The Cap- 
 tain, quick as thought, slips his fingers to my 
 wrist. 
 
 " What do you medn ? " I ask, as I withdraw my 
 hand. 
 
 " Nottings," he returns, innocent of wrong. "Me 
 just feel you pulse ven he go py, to see if he beat 
 some faster dan odder time see ?" 
 
 " How dare you ?" I cry in anger. 
 
 " Oh Mee Nelsonn !" he cries piteously, " Don't you 
 vos cross mit me ! " 
 
 " Do not touch me," I say in my sternest voice. 
 " I cannot trust you." 
 
 To my mingled horror and amusement, he leans 
 against the nearest fence, and cries like a baby. 
 
 "Hush, Captain!" I cry in alarm. "Come straight 
 along, or we'll have the whole town looking on." 
 
 "Me, don'td gare ! Me don'td gare!" he wails, 
 ' You lofe me not you hates poor me ! poor me !"
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 105 
 
 "If you don't come along this minute, "I say, 
 almost choked with laughter and mortification, " I 
 will never speak a word to you again." 
 
 This awful threat moves him, but nothing human 
 or divine can quiet his absurd cries. He follows me 
 home, .uttering such heart-rending screams of re- 
 proach aud entreaty that we become not only the 
 laughing-stock of our party, but several respectable 
 citizens, aroused from their slumbers, throw open 
 their doors and windows to inquire anxiously, 
 "What's that row ? Is any body dead?" My feel- 
 ings are better imagined than described ; for, I have 
 laughed and scolded so much, that my condition is 
 only a trifle less hysterical than Peter's. 
 
 We reach home, and I fall upon the steps and 
 laugh till I am positively weak. 
 
 "What's that infernal row?" growls Uncle from 
 his bedroom window. 
 
 "You had better go, Captain," I manage to gasp. 
 
 "Neffar !" he returns firmly. " Here vill I stay all 
 night till you say you goot friends mit me !" 
 
 " What's the matter with that blamed old fool ? " 
 tenderly inquires Uncle. 
 
 " Good-night, Captain, you may stay if you like, 
 but I must go in." 
 
 " Oh, Mees Nelsonn ! vy vill you leave me ?" 
 
 "Because I'm sleepy let go my dress !" 
 
 " Dear, scheet Mees Nelsonn " 
 
 " Leave that cussed fool and go to bed !" yells 
 my irate relative. "No decent woman would be 
 gallivanting about at this hour !" 
 
 " Good-night, Captain," I say, struggling to free 
 my skirts from his grasp. 
 
 "Oh, Mees Nelsoim !" he pleads, "say von leetle 
 vord "
 
 106 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " Come in, you jade !" Uncle screams, at the top 
 of his voice. "With a desperate effort, I free my 
 skirts, rush in, and close the door. Peter howls a 
 moment upon the steps, then slowly departs, mak- 
 ing night hideous with his cries. 
 
 How we catch it next day ! After exhausting his 
 vocabulary of pet names, and abusing us for every 
 thing under the sun, Uncle determines to leave M 
 and poor Auntie is ordered to pack instantly. 
 
 I regret that he goes in anger, but oh, so glad the 
 visit is ended. 
 
 They left Friday morning, and Saturday, just as 
 we are up to our eyes in house cleaning, de Captain 
 enters with a package under his arm. 
 
 ".Can me see you, von leetle minute ?" he asks, a 
 look of fell determination in his eye. 
 
 " Certainly," I answer. "Have a seat." 
 
 Instead of accepting the proffered chair, he lays 
 the package upon my knee, saying resignedly : 
 
 "Me pring him all back already. You no lofe me 
 den me no keep de tings you gif me." 
 
 "Very well," I answer, biting my lip to keep 
 from laughing. I open the package ; there lies the 
 birth-day and Christmas gifts I had given him 
 along with several other things. 
 
 " This calendar and collar box, I will keep ;" I say 
 gravely, "but these other things are not mine, I 
 simply embroidered them for you 'twas all your 
 own material, you remember, so 'twould be dishon- 
 est for me to keep your property." I refold the 
 articles and hand them to him, then, taking my re- 
 jected presents, turn to leave the room. 
 
 Poor Peter throws himself at my feet, wildly 
 clutches my garments, and begins his unique per- 
 formance.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 10? 
 
 " Oh Mees Nelsomi I lofe you so ferry mooch ! 
 ferry mooch ! Please don'td tek mine pooty tings 
 away already ! I ish meesable ! meesable ! Neffar, 
 some more, vill I pe happy ! Vot for you hates poor 
 me ? I lofe you mooch, so mooch ! " 
 
 "Why Captain," I laugh, " you may have your 
 pretty things back, if you'll only keep quiet." 
 
 "Yougif dem to me ?" he asks eagerly. "You 
 lofe me some little bit ?" 
 
 " Of course I do. Here, take your things, and 
 don't be so foolish." 
 
 ' ' Oh Mees Nelsonn, you ish so goot I must gry 
 some leetle bits. Just some leetle bits !" 
 
 "Not a bit," I laugh. 
 
 "But me ish so happy me must gry leetle 
 bits ! " 
 
 " Then wait till I close the windows, or the neigh- 
 bors will think you crazy " 
 
 But in spite of my efforts, he makes such a ter- 
 rific row that Kieth and Kenneth, who are passing, 
 stop to inquire if we have a madman in the house. 
 My enemy enjoys the situation hugely, declaring it 
 serves me right for deserting him. 
 
 Peter, presently, rushes past us, his face and beard 
 wet with many tears, but a look of supreme happi- 
 ness overspreading his moist countenance. 
 
 ' Me so mooch happy !" he cries. " Me go home 
 und gry some leetle bits more !" 
 
 " Poor old Peter ! " I laugh. 
 
 " What did you quarrel about ?" asks my enemy. 
 
 "You." 
 
 "Ah! How flattering," pensively stroking his 
 moustache. 
 
 " He abused me, I suppose, and you were loyal 
 enough to defend me. Hence a quarrel."
 
 108 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Don't flatter yourself! I only defend my 
 friends." 
 
 " And we are so much more than friends. At any 
 rate, the enemy was routed with great slaughter, 
 and is willing for peace on any terms." 
 
 " He cant be too penitent after getting us into 
 disgrace. You know Uncle left in great wrath. I 
 doubt his ever forgiving us." 
 
 " Poor girl ! but that reminds me you know he 
 told me of your lost will ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Have you tried a mediumistic search ?" 
 
 "No. I don't believe in mediums. 
 
 "Nevertheless, they possess strange power. I 
 
 saw a girl at P last week, who will probably 
 
 develope into a first-class medium. Suppose we pay 
 her a visit ?" 
 
 " Well, I may run down there next Friday ; but 
 why are you so anxious that I find the will ?" 
 
 " What a question ! Of course you must have 
 your rights." 
 
 His conscience, I suppose, begins to prick him. 
 
 " You forget that my gain will be 
 
 " Another's loss ? No ; but he is more able to 
 work than you." 
 
 "Thanks. You have grown awfully considerate," 
 I say scornfully, wondering if he has an axe to 
 grind. 
 
 "Now, what under heaven do you mean?" 
 
 "You certainly understand as well or better than I. " 
 
 "If you do not explain," he cries, as he catches 
 my hands, " I shall kiss you !" 
 
 "Oh no !" I cry in terror. 
 
 "Hurry !" he exclaims. "Even my patience has 
 a limit."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 109 
 
 " Oh, you horrid wretch ! Let me go !" 
 
 He holds me close, as he presses a long tender 
 kiss upon my lips. 
 
 " My own !" he whispers. 
 
 " I am not," I cry, as I struggle for freedom. " I 
 despise you ! You are a mean, unprincipled 
 
 "That will do," he says, sternly, as he withdraws 
 his arm. " Go !" he gives me a little push, and a 
 moment later, strides down the road whistling 
 "The Girl I Left Behind Me." 
 
 I don't care ! No, I am glad of it ! Of course he 
 knows that he is spending my money, and he must 
 know that' I understand it; then why pretend he 
 does not ? Yes, I am glad he is gone. I never 
 liked him; and then pretending to love me per- 
 haps he was willing to marry me for the sake of 
 easing his conscience but love bah ! We would 
 be miserable ; for how can I respect him when I re- 
 member that horrid letter ? Yes, 'tis better so. I 
 will go to P next week, and make another 
 effort to find the will. Oh how delightful it would 
 be to get my money back, and how mortified he 
 would feel if forced to return it ! Yes, I am truly 
 glad he is gone.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 " There are more things in heaven, 
 
 And earth, Horatio, 
 Than are dreamed of in our philosophy." Shakespeare. 
 
 NEXT week, true to my resolve, I visit the 
 medium. 
 
 She is very young (barely sixteen), slight, and 
 dainty looking. Like all her family, she is illiter- 
 ate; and totally unversed in Spiritualism, Occultism, 
 or even Magnetism. 
 
 She does not become entranced; she simply holds 
 the pen while some other force writes the words. 
 
 Captain Schneider, who has known her family 
 for years, says they are much astounded at Lula's 
 power, but will not permit her to become a profes- 
 sional medium. 
 
 We converse on indifferent topics for some time, 
 then I remark casually : 
 
 "I have lost something can you help me find 
 it?" 
 
 "I will try," she says obligingly." but only one 
 spirit ever finds things for me, and she may not 
 come to-night." 
 
 "I wish you'd try, for I am very anxious to find 
 this object." 
 
 " What is it ?" she asks. 
 
 I tell her about the will. 
 
 "Perhaps," she says, dipping her pen in the ink 
 bottle, and holding it over a sheet of note paper,
 
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. Ill 
 
 " your Uncle may help us. You know his writ- 
 ing?"' 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then I'll try." 
 
 The pen begins to move ; Lula still talks to me, 
 merely keeping the pen upon the lines. 
 
 "Ah," she cries, looking down, "it is Mrs. E> ! 
 
 Mrs. D can you tell this lady's Uncle, slu 
 wishes to communicate with him?" 
 
 "Yes," writes the pen, then remains silent. 
 
 "Why does it stop?" I ask. 
 
 " She has gone to find your Uncle," explains Lula. 
 
 Now it begins again. 
 
 "Look!" says the medium. I draw my chair 
 nearer and read, as the pen traces these words : 
 
 " DEAR NEL : 
 
 The will was thrown, by mistake, into the barrel 
 of waste paper it, in turn, was buried at the far- 
 ther end of the garden, just beyond the chestnut 
 tree. NELSON KIETH." 
 
 " Is it his writing ?" they all ask. 
 
 " Yes," I return, much astonished. " May I keep 
 the letter ?" 
 
 "Certainly. Are you satisfied or shall I try 
 again ?" 
 
 "Perfectly satisfied but I'd like to talk with Uncle 
 Nelson if possible." 
 
 " He has gone," she says, " but may return later ; 
 though I can't promise you for certain." 
 
 Presently it moves again, this time in German . 
 
 "Why Captain," I cry, "this is surely for you 
 none of the rest of us speak German." 
 
 "So he ish!"says Peter, eagerly scanning each 
 word.
 
 112 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 'He ish mine foster mudder. Eh? Vot clot you 
 say ?" translating for our benefit. " De vomans I 
 lof e ish in tanger, great tanger ? Dell me quick in 
 von hurry vot you means ? Eh ?" 
 
 " A tall fair woman threatens her life," writes the 
 pen, always in German. 
 
 " Vot her name eh ?" 
 
 "Lillian Lefon." 
 
 " Dot ish lies ! Mees Lefon ish fine vomans ferry 
 fine vomans ! You ish not mine foster mudder 
 you ish lying speerits !" 
 
 " Good spirits never lie," continues the unseen 
 force. " Hast thou forgotten, oh child, thy foster 
 sister, with the tiny scar on her left ear the garden 
 you played in the old sheep, Gretchen, who ate 
 from thy hand thy mother's miniature, which now 
 hangs from thy neck 
 
 " Stop !" cries Peter. " You ish mine foster mud- 
 der ! But tell me, how can I safe mine lofe ? Can 
 I do nottings ?" 
 
 " You shall assist, but another will be more power- 
 ful. God bless you, my son farewell, I am called 
 I see you always farewell !" 
 
 Warning number three ! What can it mean ? 
 How can the fair widow harm me ? Of course I 
 don't believe a word of it but, why are three of us 
 warned ? Will my enemy really help to save me, 
 or what utter nonsense ! 'Twas only a dream, 
 and " dreams always go by contraries." The Cap- 
 tain is deeply troubled ; though he says but little, I 
 can see the message weighs heavily upon him. But 
 the pen moves again, and I forget everything save 
 the present. 
 
 "Do any of us know you?" asks Lula,
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 113 
 
 " No," is written in a graceful feminine hand. " I 
 died years before you were born." 
 
 " Have you a special communication ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Who are you ?" 
 
 "Margaret Nelson Kieth." 
 
 My great-great-grandmother ?" I ask in amaze. 
 
 " Yes. It is to you, Nelson Kieth, that I speak. 
 You have made a great mistake; you are trifling 
 not only with your own heart, but that of a good, 
 noble man. Dissemble no longer, for he is worthy 
 of your love." 
 
 " Noble ?" I repeat, rather puzzled. " How about 
 that offensive letter ?', 
 
 "Find the will ; explanations will follow." 
 
 " But, if I fail ? " 
 
 " You shall not fail. Farewell. Be true to your- 
 self; remember, your happiness rests with you 
 alone." 
 
 " Stay one moment ! Does he '* 
 
 " I am called farewell !" 
 
 And to my infinite regret, the writing ceas'es, and 
 the pen remains silent the remainder of our stay. 
 
 "Find the will," says my ancestress ; and find it 
 I will, if human industry, guided by spiritual in- 
 struction ever succeeds. I shall write to my lawyer 
 this very night and have him make a thorough 
 search. Fortunately, Alan Kieth gave instructions 
 for the old place to be closed, saying that, as he 
 would soon visit America, he preferred making his 
 own arrangements concerning it. But he has not 
 been near it, for I am sure they had just crossed 
 over when we met him at Jacksonville. 
 
 How could my ancestress call him noble ? 
 
 Was she Margaret Nelson Kieth, that high-born
 
 114 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 dame whom I was taught to reverence ? Might it 
 not have been some mischief-making spirit ? Of 
 course spirits are like people ; death cannot change 
 our immortal souls. But why need I worry over any 
 of it ? '' Whatever is, is right," and I am fatalistic 
 enough to take what comes in a philosophic spirit. 
 
 Bidding good-night to the medium, I hasten to my 
 boarding-house and write my letter. Peter still 
 worries over his message, but I am too much occu- 
 pied with other thoughts. 
 
 Unless Mrs. Lefon becomes insane, she will never 
 so far forget her calm dignity, as to chase me with 
 that murderous knife, so why worry over the im- 
 possible ?
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 ' Make not thyself the judge of any man." Longfellow. 
 
 I AM so anxious about the will that I am almost 
 sick from suspense. I had telegraphed my law- 
 yer for information, and am momentarily expecting 
 an answer. 
 
 Do I believe the medium's tale ? I hardly know ; 
 the writing was certainly my Uncle's, yet if this 
 prove true, what of the other messages ? Is my 
 enemy really worthy of my love, and will the fair 
 widow attempt my life ? One is as probable as the 
 other ! 
 
 Apropos of my enemy, I have not seen him lately. 
 He and Kenneth are on the upper river collecting 
 specimens of the Roseate -Spoonbill and White- 
 Heron. Alan declared, on leaving, that he should 
 sketch every pretty spot between this place and 
 Okeechobee. I am forced, against my will, to ac- 
 knowledge that he is not an idler, but a thorough 
 and artistic student. He could be so nice if he 
 would only but why do I care ? When I find the 
 will ah, there comes Peter with my telegram ! 
 With trembling fingers I open it, and read : 
 
 " Will found. Commence proceedings without 
 delay. Will write Kieth. JOHN BROWNLOW." 
 
 "Ish he goot news?" asks Peter.
 
 116 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 " Delightful ! The will is found ! Where is Bess ? 
 I must tell her of our luck." 
 
 " Oh se off some vere mit de boys. But dot vills 
 you ish reech now you not vont to teach de 
 school?" anxiously. 
 
 " Of course I'll finish the term. This is the first 
 of May, and school closes the first week in June, 
 does it not ?" 
 
 " Yas, dot ish so. Den de Green corn dance you 
 vornt to see him ?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed; have you heard when it is cele- 
 brated?" 
 
 "Yas; Billy Oceola vas in town yesterday, 
 und he say dot he gomminse mit two moons from 
 now." 
 
 " And you will give me a holiday ?" 
 
 "Ob course se haf holitays. Dot ish nottings ! 
 Dem Jupeans, dey vornts to go 
 
 "But they are not here." 
 
 "Oh, dey ish comin'. Me haf a latter from Keit 
 last nide ; dey alride ! Den, Mees Keyson her 
 mans not go; he in de voods two mont already. 
 Und den who else you vornt ?" 
 
 " Why, we must have Syd." 
 
 " Syd ish no goot ; he haf too mooch treeks 
 already. Veil, you vornt him he go. You vornt 
 some moor vomans mit you ?" 
 
 "No; are we not enough?" 
 
 "Yas ; all me vont ish you !" 
 
 Notwithstanding their tiresome journey, our 
 Scotchmen visit us the very evening of their return. 
 
 "It is refreshing to look at you !" exclaims Ken- 
 neth. 
 
 " Why ?" asks our coquette. 
 
 "Why?" he repeats. "If you had not seen a
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 117 
 
 civilized man in a month of Sundays, would you 
 not enjoy gazing at me ?" 
 
 "That depends," she answers with a mocking 
 laugh. 
 
 " You are terribly sun-burned ; then the mosqui- 
 toes have been so attentive that your dearest friend 
 could scarcely call you handsome." 
 
 "Why are you so happy?" asks my enemy. 
 
 "Because of my return?" 
 
 "Of course !" I return, scornfully. 
 
 " What else could cause that joyous expression ?" 
 he teases. 
 
 " The will is found !" I return, watching him 
 closely. 
 
 "Let me congratulate you !" he extends his hand. 
 
 "Oh, you need not," I say in surprise; for he 
 seems really in earnest. "I can hardly expect such 
 a sacrifice." 
 
 " 'Tis none, I assure you. I am glad very glad 
 of your success." 
 
 "I believe you really mean it!" I say in 
 amaze. 
 
 "Why shouldn't I mean it ?" he demands. 
 
 "Why, you know, the will leaves everything to me.." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " And you get nothing!" 
 
 "Nel, my poor girl, are you crazed? What do 
 you mean ?" 
 
 "You know very well that you took all my 
 money have you forgotten that horrid letter?" 
 
 "I took your money?" he repeats in surprise. 
 " Pray explain how, and when." 
 
 We rise, and stare at each other in dumb amaze ; 
 then I walk quietly to my desk, find the obnoxious
 
 118 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 letter, and hand it to him. He reads it slowly, then 
 says: 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well?" I cry indignantly. "It is not well ! Can 
 you deny writing that ?" 
 
 " Certainly. I never saw it before in my life" 
 
 " What ! are you not Alan Douglas Kietli ?" 
 
 " Yes, that is my name ah, I see ! So this is the 
 mysterious crime you've treasured against me. 
 How exquisitely funny !" 
 
 He throws himself upon the sofa, and laughs im- 
 moderately. 
 
 "I am glad you are amused," I say in my stateli- 
 est accents. " AH of us are not so merry under 
 misfortune ; but, perhaps the loss of a million is 
 nothing to you." 
 
 But he laughs all the more, so I return to my seat 
 and assume a look of stern dignity. What right 
 has he to laugh at me me, whom he has de- 
 frauded ? 
 
 "You silly Child!" he says at length. "Why 
 didn't you tell me all this before ?" 
 
 " Why should I ? You knew it all along. " 
 
 " Oh, how delicious !" with another laugh," I say, 
 Kenneth, Miss Nel has been taking me for old cousin 
 Alan ! Isn't it jolly ?" Then both of them laugh. 
 
 "How flattering!" exclaims Kenneth, "I'd sue 
 her for slander." 
 
 " She richly deserves it," laughs my enemy. 
 
 "What do you mean?" I ask with dignity. "If 
 you are not my cousin, who are you ?" 
 
 " I am your cousin, considerably removed ; but 
 the old gentleman for whom you so kindly mistook 
 me, is my fourth cousin. I am both his godson and
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 119 
 
 namesake. Now, do you not feel ashamed of your 
 wretched conduct?" 
 
 " No, I do not ! I know he is a horrid old 
 wretch " 
 
 " By no means ; he is cranky, but, like all of the 
 Kieths, has his good points." 
 
 " Good points indeed ! And what, pray, are 
 yours ?" 
 
 "Long-suffering and forgiveness," he answers 
 promptly. " While yours, little cousin, is to make 
 a blunder, and stick to it." 
 
 " Yes, I always knew you were ungenerous !" I 
 cry indignantly. 
 
 " And hateful?" teasingly. 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " And a 'mean, unprincipled, wretch ? ' : 
 
 " Yes, all that and much more ! I wish you'd 
 go!" 
 
 "Why," he answers gayly, "I've just begun en- 
 joying myself." 
 
 "Go! My head aches !" 
 
 " Oh, well, you may go to bed. I can talk to 
 cousin Bessie." 
 
 " I thought you said " 
 
 " That 1 came for your society alone ? You 
 needn't believe all we say. Good-night, Miss Kieth; 
 I hope you'll be more amiable at our next inter- 
 view." 
 
 I go to bed, but cannot sleep. What an eventful 
 day ! I ought to be happy, but I am not. To think, 
 after all, he is not my enemy ! Oh how ashamed, 
 how mean and little I feel ! And he has been so 
 kind and considerate, so tender and forgiving 
 through all my terrible rudeness. He said they'd 
 hurt me some day those horrid little speeches
 
 120 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 and now they begin to sting in truth. Will I never 
 forget it all ? Oh how I wish he would go away, 
 far away, where I'd never hear of him again 
 no I don't for I miss him terribly when he 
 is gone ! Of course he will never forgive my 
 blunder ; and I how can I ask him ? Why are 
 they having such a gay time, while I am here so 
 utterly miserable ? What does he care for my 
 wretchedness ? Just hear that laugh, and my poor 
 head ready to burst. Oh dear ! Will they never go ? 
 At last thank heaven ! What is he saying ? " Tell 
 your sister I will see her to-morrow." You are mis- 
 taken sir, for I shall look simply wretched after this 
 headache !
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 "Sing, oh song of Hiawatha, 
 Of the pleasant days that followed, 
 Sing the mysteries of Modamin, 
 Sing the blessing of the cornfields ! "Longfellow. 
 
 TWO days of travelling over bad roads, a fierce 
 tropic sun overhead, and nothing upon which 
 to rest our weary eyes save an unbroken stretch of 
 pine trees, palmettoes and white sand. True, an 
 occasional bayhead relieves the monotony ; but 
 they, like angels' visits, are " few, and far be* 
 tween." 
 
 On we go, miles from any white settlement ; for 
 we are travelling to the famous " Big Cypress," a 
 part of the much talked of Everglades. 
 
 The Seminoles are nomadic, moving their abodes 
 to suit the hunting. Their women, now, as in the 
 days of Columbus, till the earth with a crooked 
 stick, and plant corn, pease, and other vegetables, 
 while the braves look on approvingly. 
 
 At last, we reach their camp, a small village of 
 palmetto houses, divided strictly into male and fe- 
 male lodgings ; for the braves consider it debasing 
 to associate too closely with women. The dance, 
 which began before our arrival, seems rather a re- 
 ligious ceremony than a jollification. 
 
 A huge fire of pine knots, palmetto roots and cab- 
 bage logs had been lighted, and around this, a large 
 circle, somewhat resembling a circus ring, had been
 
 JxJx5 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 formed. Every man, woman, and child in camp 
 danced round the sacred flame singing the monoto- 
 nous "Ho ! He ! hi ! He ! Ho he hi !" which con- 
 stitutes their highest vocal exercise. 
 
 The women are in holiday dress, and about their 
 ankles are tied terrapin shells, filled with shot, 
 small pebbles, old nails anything to make a noise. 
 The combined clatter of these unique ornaments 
 and the horrible discord of their voices, produced a 
 pandemonium which baffles description ! 
 
 I notice several braves, who wear buckskins, are 
 gay in feathers, beaded sashes and scarfes. They 
 appear to be marshals ; for, armed with long, wood- 
 en swords, they prick all delinquents on to duty. 
 Woe to any poor squaw or tired picaninny who lags 
 in the dance ! There is no rest for the weary till 
 this great rite is finished. 
 
 We join them awhile, singing their tuneless song; 
 but cannot long endure the heat. The fire is con- 
 stantly replenished, and the performance continues 
 without variation. Round and round the poor 
 wretches go, stopping for neither food nor slumber. 
 Not a moment's rest is allowed them; not a drop of 
 water passes their parched lips. On and on they 
 go, till three days and nights are spent in this pecu- 
 liar rite. 
 
 "Suppose we sketch that marshal"; says Mr. 
 Kieth, "he is a splendid model." 
 
 They are, fortunately, too busy to observe us, for 
 the Seminole is suspicious, and rarely allows him- 
 self to be photographed. 
 
 We make several excellent sketches, catching 
 their free, unstudied attitude as they gyrate around. 
 
 The weary dance ends ; and now, another curious 
 rite begins. A small house, to the left of the circle,
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 123 
 
 has been stowed with well heated stones, and every 
 particle of air excluded. A number of braves, en- 
 tirely innocent of clothing, enter; and the door is 
 shut. 
 
 For the next half hour, a dozen of the oldest men 
 dance around the building chanting the same old 
 song and mumbling prayers and incantations. Now 
 the nude warriors appear, and are bled at the arms, 
 legs and back. Immediately after bleeding they 
 plunge into a pond of cold water, clothe themselves, 
 and prepare for the feast. 
 
 This sweat-bath, unlike the dance, is optional. 
 The young braves are persuaded, even urged to take 
 it, but never forced. Women and children never 
 indulge. Bleeding, they claim, lets out the tired 
 blood producing a delightfully rejuvenating effect. 
 I suppose we might term this part of the programme 
 a Turkish bath minus polite appointments. 
 
 Great kettles of green-corn, cow-peas, sofki, 
 coffee, potatoes, etc., etc., have been spread upon 
 the ground, and around these the crowd gathers. 
 But first they must partake of the '"'vomit pot " a 
 broth made from the roots of certain herbs. They 
 drink it directly from the pot a large iron spoon 
 going the rounds then begins the nauseating sight 
 of fifty vomiting Indians ! Oh, how disgusting ! It 
 is soon over, however, and they eat as voraciously 
 as a three days' fast would warrant. 
 
 Then, oh dear ! how sleepy and tired they are ! 
 utterly worthless for the next few days. 
 
 Billy Fuel, who had lived several years among the 
 whites and understood English well, showed us 
 around the camp, explaining many of their customs. 
 
 The mother-in-law, he informs us, is by no means 
 the despised creature of civilization, but is the
 
 124 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 most powerful person in camp. Wonderful phe- 
 nomenon ! 
 
 A brave never takes his wife to his people; no, he 
 must build his palmetto house close to his mother- 
 in-law's, and remain forever after under petticoat 
 rule ! 
 
 Refreshing, isn't it, after so many howls from the 
 more (?) civilized brethren ? 
 
 Again, during any conjugal disturbance, should 
 the wife be beaten or otherwise ill-treated, her fam- 
 ily will protect her; the husband must speedily 
 mend his ugly ways, or hyepus* for the settlement 
 will suddenly become too hot for his health. 
 
 A brave, sometimes, with the consent of the Medi- 
 icine-man, puts away his wife. 
 
 She has the same privilege ; and either or both 
 may marry again. 
 
 Polygamy is prevalent, but not the slightest blood 
 relationship must exist between contracting parties. 
 For this reason, a boy of eighteen often marries a 
 woman of sixty and vice versa The race is strictly 
 moral, guarding the purity of woman as a sacred 
 trust. Go, O white man, and learn of thy ignorant 
 red brother ! 
 
 "And what is this?" I ask, as we walk through 
 one of the houses. 
 
 "Oh," says Syd, lifting the circular piece of 
 board, one side of which bristles with needle pojnts, 
 " this is their instrument of punishment.' 
 
 "Is it Billy ?" asks Bess. 
 
 " Uh-huh," grunts our guide. Picaninny cry 
 squaw scratch him see?" going through the 
 motion. 
 
 " Why not switch him?" 
 
 " Switch no good picaniimy cry what for ? He 
 
 *Hycpus go away.
 
 A TAL3 OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 125 
 
 bad Squaw scratch him bad blood squirt out 
 picaninny good again beat him like dog bad 
 blood no get out picaninny holy-wogus* to hell!" 
 We return to the f easters, who, though they de- 
 cline conversing, offer us food. We taste their 
 sofki a kind of starch but do not enjoy it. They 
 have no plates, eating from the pots in which the 
 food is cooked. Knives and forks are unknown, 
 the fingers supplying their place ; while the large 
 spoon, the only one used, begins at the eldest, 
 and goes, in turn to the voungest member of the 
 group. 
 
 " Do the squaws never wear anything on their 
 heads ?" I ask. 
 
 Billy gives a negative grunt. 
 
 "I suppose," remarks Kieth, "that old shawl or 
 blanket they wear about their shoulders, is a rem- 
 nant of the Mexican reboza." 
 
 " One might judge so," I return, "by the inevita- 
 ble picaninny within." 
 
 " I especially admire the arrangement of their 
 hair," laughs Bess. 
 
 " Vy," says Peter, "se got bangs, des like you." 
 " Do you mean to insinuate that Hook like that ?" 
 pointing to a hideous old hag. 
 
 "Veil," returns Peter, enjoying her indignation, 
 " se got long stwait bangs, und you got short kinky 
 yons, like de niggar ! Dot ish all de diffunse me 
 see," 
 
 '" Mr. Lindsey !" she cries, " I appeal to you for 
 redress. The Captain has insulted me grossly ! " 
 
 " Captain Schneider," cries Kenneth in a tone of 
 great severity. "I demand an instant apology, or 
 pistols for two !" 
 
 *Holy Wogus no good.
 
 126 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "Me not fight, und me not 'pologise," laughs 
 Peter. " Vot for you not vear your hair like Mees 
 Nelsonn ?" 
 
 " Oh," with a pout, ' ' she can dispense with bangs. 
 If I had a low, broad forehead, and all of that wavy 
 hair besides, brunettes can afford a plainer style 
 than we poor blondes." 
 
 We buy moccasins, leggins, a few buckskins and 
 a little bead-work, then turn our faces home- 
 ward. 
 
 I am very glad we came, for though suspicious 
 and uncommunicative, the Indians have treated us 
 kindly, and given us much useful information. 
 
 They are a peaceful, honest race, with no aspira- 
 tions above a shot-gun, and few disappointments of 
 any kind. Having a justly rooted hatred against the 
 United States government, they will accept nothing 
 at its hands, receiving all agents in contemptuous 
 silence. When an enterprising agent, regardless of 
 cold looks and perfect silence (the Seminole will not 
 speak on compulsion), forced himself into their set- 
 tlement, they quietly waited for darkness to enwrap 
 the earth, then "folded their tents like the Arabs, 
 and as silently stole away." They will do it every 
 time, so Uncle Sam may as well leave them alone. 
 
 Religious and philanthropic societies, too, have 
 made, and are still making efforts in their behalf. 
 Every few months, a box containing books, cards, 
 clothing, etc., is received at M for distribution 
 among the Seminoles. This is mistaken kindness. 
 Few of the tribe can read, and those who can arc 
 proud to buy their own books. 
 
 They are honestly dealt with by the men with 
 whom they trade, and still possess that feeling of 
 independence impossible to an object of charity.
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 127 
 
 Our homeward journey is even more tiresome 
 than the outward. The rainy season, fortunately, 
 has not begun, or this excursion would have been 
 impossible. 
 
 But the saw-grass seems higher, the sun hotter 
 and the mosquitoes more vicious. We girls are 
 utterly worn out, but nothing disturbs Mrs. Keyson's 
 calm. 
 
 My enemy spends his time in sketching scenery 
 and caricaturing our party. He has let me severely 
 alone since he discovered my unlucky blunder. I 
 suppose he thinks I should apologise ; but how. can 
 I ? If I begin, where shall I end ? How was I to 
 know that he was not my cousin ? One more month 
 and I shall leave Florida. We may never meet 
 again, and I shall soon forget can I, though ? I 
 feel that kiss always. Why can I not wipe it into 
 forgetf ulness ? How foolish 1 am ! Never mind, a 
 few more rows with Uncle will change the current 
 of my thoughts. Poor Uncle ! His bark was ever 
 worse than his bite
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " False friendship, like the ivy, decays and ruins the wall it embraces ; 
 but true friendship gives new life and animation to the objects it sup- 
 ports." Robert Burton. 
 
 MY birthday being the twentieth of June, I de- 
 termine to give a grand fete, which will serve 
 as a farewell to our friends. 
 
 So I decide on a garden-party, and invite the en- 
 tire neighborhood ; even Mrs. Lefon. 
 
 The Captain, our Scotchmen and the Keyson boys 
 have placed their services at our disposal, while Mrs. 
 Keyson has kindly offered to relieve us of cake 
 baking. 
 
 My pupils are delighted at the prospect of attend- 
 ing a " real grown folks' party," and I determine to 
 devote much of my time to them. 
 
 Every one is so kind I almost hate to leave them. 
 Yet, I know we'd soon vegetate in this quiet place. 
 
 We work hard, and the grounds look lovely.. 
 Then my presents I can't begin to describe them 
 all! 
 
 Dear old Peter brought me a string of large, beau- 
 tiful pearls. 
 
 " Dey vos mine mudder's," he says, "mid no 
 udder vomans shall effar vear dem. Vill you for 
 mine poor sake ?" 
 
 "Of course, I shall, you dear, good man !" 
 
 Suppose his mother was not as good as she might 
 have been, shall I refuse this gift from my good old
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 129 
 
 friend? No, had she been twice as bad, 1 will 
 always remember her kindly for Peter's sake. 
 
 " You ish goot !" he exclaims delightedly. "Me 
 lofe you mooch ! Ferry mooch !" 
 
 Later on Kenneth brings me a lovely bracelet, and 
 about noon I receive a package and note from Mrs. 
 Lef on, who begs that I will wear her gift that evening. 
 
 "Oh !" exclaims Bess, shaking out the soft folds 
 of a dainty silk scarf. " What an exquisite shade ! 
 And it just- matches your other trimmings ! Of 
 course you will wear it." 
 
 "I suppose I must;" I reply reluctantly, "but I 
 wish she had not sent it." 
 
 " Why ?" throwing it around my neck. 
 
 " Oh, I do not know ! I have a horror of her." 
 
 By sunset everything is in readiness, and we be- 
 gin our personal adornment. Our dresses are white, 
 Bessie's trimmings of blue, mine yellow. I twine 
 my dark locks to the top of my head, and arrange 
 Peter's pearls tastefully among them. 
 
 Kenneth's bracelet is upon my arm, and I am try- 
 ing Mrs. Lefon's scarf about my throat, when Syd 
 calls : " I say, Miss Nel ! Here is another birthday 
 gift. Wish I was a girl ! I don't see why they 
 should get everything ! Why, nobody knows when 
 I have a birthday. I don't think it's fair !" 
 
 Who could have sent it ! As I open the tiny 
 package a brilliant diamond flashes across my daz- 
 zled eyes. Ah, here is a note. 
 
 "DEAR NEL: 
 
 Wear this to-night to please ALAN." 
 
 I slip it on my finger. 
 
 What a beauty ! Shall 1 wear it? Of course ; it 
 will please him then it is so exquisite !
 
 130 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 But, if I wear it, what then ? Is it simply a birth- 
 day token, or does it mean more ? Will he not 
 think me anxious, that I am meeting him half-way? 
 No, on second thoughts, I will not wear it. If he 
 likes, he can ask about it, and I will tell him 
 " there is the rub " what shall I tell him ? 
 
 But our guests are arriving, so I return the ring 
 to its box, and hasten to the grounds. Gorgeous 
 Japanese lanterns swing gently from every avail- 
 able limb, shedding a soft, mellow light over the 
 garden, and discloses, to those inclined, many quiet 
 nooks for tete-a-tete. Chairs, sofas and rustic 
 benches are scattered around not too near together 
 for the accommodation of young and old. The 
 elder guests avail themselves of these, and sit in 
 groups, enjoying many a bit of gossip ; but the 
 younger couples wander here, there and every- 
 where in search of variety. 
 
 The organ, " a blaze of lights, and breathing with 
 perfume," occupies a central position, and the Cap- 
 tain, contrary to his usual custom; plays whenever 
 asked, delighting us all with his bright, joyous 
 music. 
 
 Tears of joy sprang to the dear, dear fellow's eyes 
 when he saw his pearls amid my hair ; but I could 
 scarcely understand Mrs. Lefon's look on beholding 
 her gift. She thanked me in her calm, cool way for 
 wearing it, but a triumphant look shone in her eyes 
 and a hard, little smile appeared upon her lips as 
 she remarked : 
 
 " You will be leaving us soon 
 
 "Yes, in two days." 
 
 " So soon ?" with a strange look. 
 
 " I hope so," I answer, wondering why she stares 
 so strangely. 'Twas a strange look triumph, not
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 131 
 
 unmixed with remorse. But I have no time to 
 think of her, for I am wanted everywhere. 
 
 " Where is my ring?" demands Alan Kieth, atten- 
 tively regarding rny hand. 
 
 "In my room." 
 
 " You do not mind wearing other people's gifts !" 
 he exclaims angrily, as he looks with disdain upon 
 my numerous adornments. 
 
 "They are from my friends." 
 
 " And what, pray, am I ?" 
 
 " Why, you are my yes children, I am coming.' 
 
 " Let the children go to h heaven ! Can you not 
 spare me a moment ?" 
 
 "Not now." 
 
 "Will you at all?" 
 
 " Perhaps if you are nice. Now come and help 
 me play with them." 
 
 We start a game, but lam soon whisked off to the 
 organ and forced to sing, though I am scarcely able. 
 Such curious sensations are creeping over me ; of 
 course I am not sick, yet, I feel so miserable. 
 
 I force myself to be gay, while all the time I am long- 
 ing to lie down in peace. I feel that something terrible 
 is about to happen; yet I must go on to the bitter end. 
 
 I have no clear recollection how we get through 
 with supper ; I only know that Alan and the Cap- 
 tain help me greatly. Alan sees my wretchedness 
 and shields me when possible. 
 
 " What is the matter?" he asks gently. 
 
 " I do not know. I am utterly miserable ! Do I 
 show it much ?'* 
 
 " Not much. I am afraid you have worked too 
 hard. Can you not rest a little ?" 
 
 " Come Miss Nel !" cry a lot of little folks. " You 
 must play ' drop the handkerchief.' "
 
 132 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 1 give a weary sigh and start forward. 
 
 "Do not go!" exclaims Alan. "You are not 
 able." 
 
 " Oh I must ! " 
 
 "Oootan turn too, Mifter Tief !" cries a tiny girl. 
 So he laughingly takes her hand, and joins the 
 circle. 
 
 " Run, Miss Nel ! You've got it !" cries one of the 
 children. 
 
 I pick up the handkerchief, and begin a mad race 
 after the misguided youth who had so unkindly 
 flattered me with this attention. My head feels as 
 if it would split, and the odor of the flowers is over- 
 powering ! The heavy perfume of night-blooming 
 jasmine is everywhere ; will nothing shut it out ? 
 I can scarcely breathe ; I loosen the scarf at my 
 throat and rush on pn on ! Ah I almost have 
 him, when all turns dark, and I fall but no some- 
 one catches me ! I feel those strong arms close 
 about me, but the voice seems far distant that says 
 tenderly : 
 
 " Poor girl ! This is too much for her." 
 
 Some one brings a glass of water, and I open my 
 eyes. I still lean upon his breast, for I am too weak 
 to move. 
 
 " I could not help it," I say faintly. " Could you 
 manage to get me to the house ? " 
 
 " Directly," returns Alan. " Lie still a moment." 
 
 He half carries me into the house, and places me 
 upon the sofa. 
 
 "Send Bess," I gasp. 
 
 " Are you comfortable ?" he asks arranging my 
 pillow. 
 
 "No yes I want to tell you how awfully 
 sorry
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 133 
 
 " Nonsense ! you could not help it. Lie still ; I 
 will be back directly." 
 
 He will not understand that I am sorry for the 
 past ; and he may never know, for I shall certainly 
 die if they do not hurry. 
 
 How my head aches ! My brain is on fire, and a 
 wave of deathly nausea sweeps over me ! When 
 will they come ? Ah, at last ! Peter, Kenneth, 
 Alan and Bess all looking so anxious. 
 
 The Captain feels my pulse and shakes his head. 
 
 "Ve got her to beds ride avay quick in von 
 hurry," he says decisively. "Se sick ferry mooch. 
 Kiet, you kintle de fire und heat blenty vorters 
 you, Meester Lindsey go sent dem peoples home ; 
 dis house must be auiet. Mees Bessie, me help you 
 get her to ped." 
 
 "But Captain," she begins, "I had better have 
 one of the ladies " 
 
 "You do vot I say!" he says sharply." You 
 not know nothings !" 
 
 I am too miserable to know or care how I am put 
 to bed 1 only know they get me there and am 
 thankful. Later on they souse me into a great tub 
 of hot water and wrap me snugly, compelling me 
 to drink great quantities of orange leaf tea ; but I 
 have only a vague, dream-like memory every 
 thing is shadowy. Then comes a blank I have no 
 idea how long I tossed about not exactly uncon- 
 scious just too miserable to see or hear any thing 
 so utterly wretched all the time ! Sometimes the 
 conversation about me reached my dull ears, and I 
 tried to make sense, but the effort was too great I 
 could only lie there and wonder vaguely what it 
 was all about. 
 
 One day, when they thought me unconscious, I
 
 13i TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 heard Peter sob. I tried to ask him what was the 
 matter but could not. 
 
 " She is sinking rapidly," says a strange voice. 
 
 " Vill se die ?" sobs Peter. ( ' Yes. She will hardly 
 last till evening unless, indeed, some powerful 
 change takes place." 
 
 How terrible ! Why should I die ? I am so young 
 so rich and why should I be snatched away from 
 all I love ? What good will the money do me now 
 and there is my enemy dear fellow how nice he's 
 always been and how sorry he'll be ! Then to 
 think he will never know how sorry I am but per- 
 haps I can tell him now before I go anyhow 
 
 I open my eyes, and look feebly about. A tall, 
 dark man bends over me. 
 
 "Are you the doctor?" I ask faintly. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Where is Bess ?" 
 
 "Asleep." 
 
 "Don't wake her. I want are you sure I will die?" 
 
 " I fear so, poor child." 
 
 " Then I must see Allan, "I gasp. I am awfully 
 tired, but I must see him before the end. Peter goes 
 out, and soon returns with the poor fellow; then goes 
 out again, softly closing the door. How sad they 
 both look ! Do they care so much ? < 
 
 "Do you know?"l ask faintly, "that I must 
 die ?" 
 
 He covers his face with both hands, but says 
 nothing. 
 
 "I could not go without your forgiveness," I con- 
 tinue. " I was so unjust said such mean, spiteful 
 things ; but I have been awfully sorry. And your 
 ring I did want to wear it I wanted to be sweet 
 to you but now it is too late."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 135 
 
 "Nel," he cries passionately, " do not waste your 
 precious strength on trifles !" 
 
 "And I loved you all along;" I confess, "even 
 before I discovered you were not my enemy." 
 
 "Dear love," he says, tenderly kissing my poor, 
 thin hands, "you must not leave me." 
 
 " I do not want to go ; but what can I do ? " I 
 cry piteously, " life would be so sweet with you." 
 
 "You shall not die !" he exclaims passionately. 
 
 "I am so young," I murmur, "andlife is so beau- 
 tiful ! Kiss me once, dear love as you did 
 
 He takes me in his arms, and kisses me tenderly, 
 almost reverently, then lays me gently among the 
 pillows. 
 
 "Alan," I whisper, " I want your ring your 
 ring. Put it on my finger dear, so I may feel near 
 you even after death." 
 
 He hunts on the dressing table and places it on 
 my third finger where it should aave been all along. 
 
 "Nell," he says resolutely, "will with all your 
 might with your very soul to live /" 
 
 " But Alan, the doctor said I must die." 
 
 "Love is mightier than Death!" he cries. "Help me 
 darling to fight the destroyer! Live, Nel, for my sake!" 
 
 He looks intently at me, and begins stroking my 
 hands with a light, circular motion. 
 
 " Sleep !" he commands. 
 
 " Don't leave me !" I plead. 
 
 " I will not," he says soothingly. " Sleep, sweet- 
 heart." 
 
 I smile at him through my half closed eyes. 
 
 Such a delicious langour is stealing over me how 
 sweet to have him with me to the very end. 
 
 I suppose this is death, but I do not mind it the 
 least bit it is heavenly !
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Woman is a miracle of divine contradictions." MicUelet. 
 
 SHE told you that !" 
 Bessie's voice has a far off sound ; perhaps I 
 am in the spirit world, and catch only the echo. 
 
 " Yas," answers dear old Peter, " und se cwy, und 
 wing her hand und say se sorry tormenjus sorry !" 
 
 "And you?" she questions. 
 
 "Me dells her to go avay for always oudt of mine 
 sight ! Neffar, no more I vornt to see her some 
 more already !" 
 
 He gives an angry snort, and I open my eyes. 
 
 " Bess ! " I call feebly. 
 
 " Oh you darling !" she cries, running to my side. 
 " She is all right, Captain." 
 
 Peter comes in, his dear, old face one broad smile. 
 
 "Yas, se alride !" he announces, eyeing me closely. 
 " Se goot gearl mooch goot !" rubbing his chubby 
 hands in pleasure. 
 
 " Have I been ill?" I ask, bewildered. 
 
 "Have you been ill ?" laughs Bess. "What im- 
 pertinence ! Here we've been nearly wild about 
 you why if it hadn't been for the Captain, you'd 
 have died before the doctor got here !" 
 
 " But Bess " I begin " what's the matter 
 
 " Hush dot talking !" commands Peter. " Me get 
 him goot brot.' And he bustles out. 
 
 "Why must I "
 
 A TALE OF SOU'.! rl FLORIDA. 137 
 
 "Hush!" says Bess, "Peter is head nurse, and 
 he'll murder me if any thing goes wrong ; so shut 
 your eyes, baby mine, and wait for your broth." 
 
 I obey, wondering vaguely what it all means. 
 The broth is good, and Peter and Bess rattle on in 
 the most nonsensical way. They are wildly gay 
 about something but won't let me talk much. 
 Never mind I'll retaliate, some day. But it is de- 
 lightful to be petted ; so I lie there and smile indul- 
 gently at Peter's funny talk and Bessie's merry 
 laughter. 
 
 Presently, they think me asleep and cease talk- 
 ing. He steals softly out, and she brushes away 
 the flies. Why must all sick people be fanned? 
 What a trouble to the nurse, and how tired her poor 
 arms must get ! Nothing but brush brush brush ! 
 What is the matter with me, anyhow, and why will 
 they not tell me ? It is something catching, for I 
 smell carbolic acid. Oh horrors ! can it be small- 
 pox ? I look at my hands very carefully ; no, they 
 are smooth and white. What, then ah ! memory 
 slowly awakens ; that awful, sickening feeling 
 
 which made me faint 
 
 " Bess," I ask, as I open my eyes "What day is 
 this ?" 
 
 " Why, Baby, I thought you were asleep ! This, 
 Miss Kieth, is Thursday." 
 "The day after our fete ?" 
 
 " No, dear child ; a week later. You have been 
 very ill, but will do nicely now, if you obey orders. 
 So shut your eyes and go to sleep. I shall answer 
 no more questions." 
 
 I shut my eyes, and begin to think. I have a 
 vague, dream-like recollection of beinrj fussed over 
 by Bess, Kenneth, de Captain and Alan ; of intoler-
 
 138 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 able pain and deadly nausea but nothing is clear. 
 
 Oh, well, I am too weak to worry over these dim 
 shadows; they will all come in time. 
 
 I do little more than eat and sleep for the next 
 few days Peter and Bess still my devoted slaves. 
 
 Our Scotchmen call many times, supplying me 
 daily with fresh flowers and game. 
 
 Strange, I've heard no female voices. Have my 
 lady friends forgotten me, or are they afraid of the 
 contagion ? I asked Bess the other day, but got no 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Alan asked yesterday when he might see me, but 
 I said positively not until I could dress ; for it is so 
 confusing to receive in bed. Of course I do not 
 mind dear, old Peter he has been just like a father 
 to me but the others must wait. 
 
 Bess has told me all! How Mrs. Lefon sent me 
 that scarf, knowing it was alive with yellow-fever 
 microbes! Sent it purposely, hoping that I would 
 contract the dread disease ! And how, when they 
 thought me dying, she confessed her crime, and 
 begged Peter to forgive her. 
 
 "It was jealousy;" says Bess, "she hoped, by 
 your death to gain his affections. But remorse 
 overcame her, and now, he swears he will never see 
 her again!" 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 " She went North immediately, and will probably 
 stay there !" 
 
 "And the scarf ?" 
 
 " Is burned." 
 
 " How did you discover the disease ?" 
 
 " Dear old Peter suspected it immediately, and 
 his prompt treatment was just the thing ; for the
 
 A TALE OP SOUTH FLORIDA. 139 
 
 doctor, (we telegraphed to Jacksonvile for one) on 
 his arrival, simply continued it, and finally cheered 
 us with the information that you would die, unless 
 a miracle took place." 
 
 " Then, how am I here ?" 
 
 " Alan Kieth performed the miracle !" 
 
 " O-o-o-h !" I say slowly, my mind going back to 
 that awful night. " What did he do ?" 
 
 "Do you remember nothing of your last meet- 
 ing r 
 
 I do not answer, so she continues : 
 
 " Well, you asked to see him, told him you were 
 properly sorry for your past meanness, I suppose, 
 (he has never mentioned the matter) and when the 
 others returned you were fast asleep, your hand 
 lovingly clasped in his." 
 
 " Well ?" 
 
 " The doctor said 'twas a clear case of hypnotism 
 and that you owed your life to Alan." 
 
 " How strange !" I cry. " The warning was true, 
 after all Mrs. Lefon did attempt my life, and the 
 Captain and Alan did save me ! Did either of them 
 remember my dream?" 
 
 " Yes. Alan spoke of it several times, and Peter 
 was hopeful all along, because his ' foster mudder ' 
 had promised that he should assist in saving you." 
 
 " Dear old Peter ! But, have none of your lady 
 friends been near you ? " 
 
 " Dear child, the whole town ran away from the 
 fever ! Peter and the Scotch boys are our only true 
 friends." 
 
 " How mortifying ! But, was there much 
 danger?" 
 
 " No. They were only scared. Your system 
 was ripe for any disease, or you would never
 
 140 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 have taken it. We, who nursed you night 
 and day, have not been at all affected. Here, it is 
 time for your quinine. And now, you had better 
 rest." 
 
 I may rest my body, but my mind is in a tumult. 
 To think of owing my very life to my enemy ! 
 The man I have scorned and insulted ever since we 
 met; the dear, good, uncomplaining fellow, so 
 handsome and gifted ! How can I ever face him ? 
 Then, that awful deathbed scene does he remem- 
 ber it ? How dreadful ! Why did I not have the 
 decency to die ? No, I am glad I did not ; but what 
 shall I do ? Then, there is his ring ; shall I return 
 it ? No, I dare not ! And he is coming to-morrow ! 
 Oh what a pickle ! How I wish but what is the 
 use fate always fulfills herself. 
 
 I put on my pink tea-grown, and am thankful to 
 see that I am quite presentable ; a trifle pale, per- 
 haps, but that is necessary to the role of invalid. 
 
 The gate slams I hear Kenneth's laugh, and the 
 Captain's voice, so brace myself for the encounter. 
 
 "Good-morning, Miss Kieth," says Kenneth, 
 shaking hands. 
 
 "1 believe," says Alan, looking searchingly into 
 my eyes, " you've been well enough to see us long 
 ago." 
 
 "'I deny nothing and admit nothing!'" I cry, 
 trying to avoid his gaze. 
 
 'Twas all pride," explains Bess. "She fancied 
 she did not look so bewitching as when you last 
 met" 
 
 "Our last meeting was entirely satisfactory;" 
 says my enemy with a quiet smile," though I have 
 no idea what she wore."
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 141 
 
 "They say I must thank you for my life/' I say 
 shyly. 
 
 " The Captain did far more than I," he returns 
 modestly. 
 
 " No !" cries Peter, " you haf more power ; me do 
 vot I can, but you safe her life ! Se die. but for you. 
 Se pelong to you, alvays !' 
 
 "Why, Captain," I say, "Bess says you did 
 everything." 
 
 " I do effry ting but safe you; dot he do. You 
 belong mit him ! Yas, me villing mooch villing ! 
 It ish nottings nottiiigs at all ! Goot-bye ; me 
 know young folks vornt to talk lofe me go !" 
 And out he rushes before I can stop him. 
 
 Oh, that the earth would open and swallow my 
 blushing face ! It does not, though ; it never does 
 when we most ardently desire it. 
 
 "A sensible old chap!" remarks Kenneth. 'He 
 knows when he is ' a crowd.' ' 
 
 " He did not wait for even a hint," laughs Alan. 
 
 "Any insinuations?" asks Kenneth. "Bess and 
 I had just as soon perambulate." 
 
 "You are mistaken," returns Bess. "I have 
 bread to bake; the fire must be started this minute." 
 "Then, I will assist," he rises with alacrity. 
 
 "Do not go!" I beg. 
 
 " I must," she returns. " And Nel, I may as well 
 tell you that Kenneth and I are " 
 
 "Oh Bess, do you mean " 
 
 "Yes, she does," laughs Kenneth, placing his 
 arm about her. "And I am just awfully happy !" 
 
 " I am so glad !" I cry, giving him my hand. 
 
 "Thank you, little sister," he says, as he kisses 
 me affectionately.
 
 142 TWO LITTLE MAIDS. 
 
 "And now/' says Alan, as they depart, ",it is my 
 turn." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" I falter. 
 
 " I want a kiss, of course ! Am I not a model of 
 patience?" 
 
 " No !" I cry, putting out both hands to prevent 
 him. 
 
 " Nonsense, Nel ! You know you know you are 
 mine heart and soul ' Have you forgotten this ?" 
 touching his ring. 
 
 " Oh !" I cry, wild with shame, " why didn't you 
 let me die ? I was crazed with fever how could I 
 know what I was saying ?" 
 
 He drops my hands and looks grave. 
 
 "Do you mean that I mistook your ravings ?" he 
 asks coldly. "You care nothing forme ?" 
 
 " Of course you did !" I say, lying glibly. 
 
 A look of stony firmness settle slowly over his 
 face. He takes his hat, and says, with chilling po- 
 liteness : 
 
 "I bid you good-morning, Miss Kieth," then 
 walks in dignified silence towards the door. 
 
 Shall I let him go ? I look longingly at him, but 
 his face is turned steadily from me. Surely he will 
 look around ! Why was I so contrary, when all the 
 time ah ! he has reached the door no I cannot give 
 him up ! 
 
 " Alan !" I cry, starting towards him. 
 
 He turns and retraces his footsteps. 
 
 " Well ? " he says coldly, 
 
 " Don't go please!" 
 
 " Why not ?" dryly. 
 
 "Because because " 
 
 " Because what ?" his eyes begin to twinkle. 
 
 "I was fibbing," I say desperately, for he will not
 
 A TALE OF SOUTH FLORIDA. 143 
 
 help me one particle. "I do love you devotedly !" 
 
 I cry, throwing my arms around his neck. 
 
 "I know it," he laughs indulgently. " And now 
 
 you wish me to set the day ?" 
 
 "I suppose you must," resignedly, "for I will not." 
 " Nel," he says, as he holds me close, "you are the 
 
 sweetest, meanest, most enchanting little torment 
 
 in the world !" 
 
 THE END.
 
 CONCHITA; 
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE, 
 
 BY "MEG." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE hot summer day is just ending, and the de- 
 parting sun-god sheds his last, fiery rays over 
 a scene of tropical loveliness. 
 
 In the midst of a grove of feathery cocoa palms, 
 stands a picturesque flat-roofed house, with the 
 open courtyard and quaint little balconies, so com- 
 mon in Mexico. Large poncianas, literally covered 
 with pink, scarlet, white and yellow blossoms, 
 many brilliant cacti, verbenas, geraniums, and a 
 number of flowering vines fill the air with fra- 
 grance. 
 
 In an airy apartment, the long jalousies of which 
 open upon the balcony, a man reclines upon a wil- 
 low invalid-chair. 
 
 A casual glance shows that his life is fast ebbing 
 away. His surroundings are refined, even luxu- 
 rious, and bespeak both wealth and culture. 
 
 As the clock strikes six, he opens his eyes and 
 calls, "Conchita! Conchita!" This call is immedi- 
 ately repeated by a grey parrot perched on the back 
 of his chair,
 
 2 CONCHITA. 
 
 " You here, Poll ?" he says. "Did I not send you 
 to your own house, for swearing?" 
 
 "Poor Poll ! Poor Poll !" croaked the artful creat- 
 ure, holding up one foot to hide her pretended tears. 
 "Poll so sorry she promise to swear no more. Poll 
 love her master kiss and forgive !" She flies down 
 and gives him a little peck upon the lips. 
 
 Just then, through the open window, Avalks a 
 young girl of seventeen summers. Her glorious 
 dark eyes, fine brows and curling lashes, rippling 
 black hair, and clear, white skin, combined with a 
 slender, well developed figure, produce a charming 
 whole. Her soft, clinging white robe, tiny, high- 
 heeled slippers, and graceful lace mantilla, are well 
 in keeping with her pure, stately beauty. 
 
 With a loud cry of " Conchita ! Conchita !" the 
 the parrot flies across the room, and after a little 
 peck on each cheek (the usual Spanish salutation) 
 settles herself upon the young girl's shoulder. 
 
 Lightly kissing her father, she hands him a letter. 
 
 He gave a sigh of relief as he read its contents. 
 
 " A few more days," he murmurs, " and my mind 
 will be at rest. Little daughter, you may read this; 
 it is from my most valued friend, and concerns 
 your future." 
 
 Wondering greatly, she took the letter and read : 
 
 " NEW YORK, June 5th, 1865. 
 DEAR OLD FRIEND: 
 
 Yours of May 10th just to hand. 
 
 I will be with you as soon as steam can take me. 
 Can arrange very well for the little girl, but hope 
 sincerely, it will be unnecessary. Keep up a brave 
 heart, and don't expect me till you see me. 
 
 As ever, your friend, ERNEST GREYSON." 
 
 "But what does it all mean, Papa?" turning her
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 3 
 
 perplexed eyes upon him. " Who is the 'little girl,' 
 and what arrangement is to be made for her ?" 
 
 "Dear child," he answers, gently stroking one of 
 her slender hands, "your father knowing he can 
 live but a short while, wrote, asking a trusted 
 friend to care for his little blossom when he must 
 leave her. Don't you understand, my darling?" 
 
 " Oh, it can not be ! It must not be !" she sobbed. 
 " God is too good to take you from me. And, Papa, 
 may not the doctor be mistaken ? I am sure you 
 look better to-day say, dear Papa, do you not feel 
 stronger?" 
 
 He smiled faintly, shaking his head. 
 
 Poll, unable to understand the situation, looks on 
 in amaze; gathering, finally, that Conchita is in 
 distress, she shows her sympathy by raising her 
 voice in a most piteous wail. 
 
 "There, there, 'Chita," says her father, "dry 
 your tears and quiet poor Poll. You know, child, I 
 could not possibly live always. I am sure, you 
 would not wish me to stay, suffering as I do." 
 
 With a strong effort, she controls her emotion, and, 
 with the screaming parrot still perched upon her 
 shoulder, leaves the room.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CRANCIS MERLE, while still quite young, 
 formed a romantic attachment for a beautiful 
 Mexican Senorita, whom he met one winter in 
 Havana. He first saw Conchita Poyo at a gay 
 fancy ball, fell desperately in love, and followed her 
 to Mexico, vowing that nothing should part them. 
 She, at first was a little frightened by his vehem- 
 ence, then pleased, and finally captivated. At last 
 she promised, " If Papa consents, I will marry Senor 
 Merle." 
 
 " Papa," after examining into the family record 
 and bank account of the young man, yielded his 
 consent on condition that they reside in Mexico. 
 
 Frances, being very much in love, willingly con- 
 sented. 
 
 Papa Poyo presented them with a pretty little 
 home on the gulf coast, and an airy summer retreat 
 among the mountains; a refuge when the long, 
 rainy season set in. 
 
 After two years of almost perfect bliss, the young 
 wife died, in giving birth to her tiny namesake. 
 
 The bereaved husband, almost crazed with grief, 
 left his child with her maternal Aunt, Donna Castro, 
 and roamed over many lands in search of distrac- 
 tion. 
 
 Finally, a longing for rest, brought him once more 
 to his southern home.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 5 
 
 Little Chita, now six years old, soon learned to 
 love "Papa" dearly. 
 
 Her cousin Alfonso, who had, hitherto, been her 
 constant companion, felt a little jealous that so 
 much of the affection he had formerly received 
 should now be given to another. But the little lady 
 explained matters by saying, " Don't you see, 'Fonso, 
 I must love my Papa heaps and heaps ! 'Cause I 
 am all he has, and your Papa has you, and Auntie, 
 and me, and lots of others." 
 
 "Well," answers the boy, gravely, "you may 
 love him all you want to. But don't forget, ' Chita, 
 you have promised to be my wife, some day when 
 we are grown." 
 
 " Certainly not," she answers firmly. "But don't 
 you think, l Fonso, 'twould be better to ask my 
 Papa's consent,? I heard Auntie say your papa 
 asked for her." 
 
 " Perhaps so," he answers, " I shall ask him right 
 now, this minute) if you wish it." 
 Hand in hand, they go in search of " Papa." 
 " Uncle," says ' Fonso solemnly, " Conchita and I 
 want to marry when we are big like you. 1 come 
 to ask your consent. Do you object ?" 
 
 Mr. Merle laughed, and patting each of their 
 heads, promised to raise no objections, if, at the end 
 of a dozen years, they were still of the same mind. 
 "We will never change," they declared. 
 So he dismissed them with the wise admonition, 
 "to be good children, and avoid all lover's quar- 
 rels." 
 
 Mr. Merle, after returning home, devoted much 
 time to his little daughter. He would neither send 
 her to school nor employ a governess, but deter- 
 mined to teach her himself.
 
 6 CONCHITA. 
 
 She was a bright little thing, and easily learned 
 all lessons assigned her. Then came the delightful 
 pleasure of sitting on Papa's knee and listening 
 with bated breath to his vivid descriptions of for- 
 eign lands. But most she loved to hear of his 
 native city, New York. 
 
 "And why," questions the little fairy, "did you 
 never go back to see your relations ?" 
 
 "'Because pet," your papa has no relatives, that 
 is, no near ones.'' 
 
 " And no friends ?" she persisted. 
 
 " Only one." 
 
 "When did you see him last ?" 
 
 "Just before I came home." 
 
 "And has he any little girl, like me?" 
 
 " No, but he has a niece, several years older, who 
 lives with him." 
 
 " Has she a mama ?" 
 
 " Yes, she has a mama. Now run and play." 
 
 So years rolled on, father and daughter becoming 
 fonder of each other every day. 
 
 He gave her a thorough English education, over- 
 looked her miscellaneous .reading, and taught her to 
 sketch with a bold, fretrnHHtk^. 
 
 They were inseparable ; if he rode, s"he kept by 
 his side, firmly seated on her own little pony, and 
 would pace, gallop or even run to keep up with 
 " Papa." He never walked, read, sketched or en- 
 joyed any occupation without her. 
 
 Alfonso still claimed much of her time, speaking 
 often of their future marriage. 
 
 Their parents smiled, but said nothing, thinking 
 it a very good arrangement. 
 
 Mr. Merle, however, wished his daughter to see 
 more of the world before marriage ; and, knowing
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 7 
 
 his days were numbered, had written to his friend 
 Ernest Greyson, asking him to come immediately, 
 and assume the care of his ere-long orphan child. 
 
 He had settled his earthlj 7 affairs, "put his house 
 in order," and craved only to see this life-long 
 friend, before going to his eternal rest. 
 
 The letter, received in our opening chapter gave 
 him that hope.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ONCHITA, don't you hear some one coming ? 
 
 v_^ Look through the window, child surely I 
 am not mistaken." 
 
 "Yes, Papa, a man is coming up the tamarind 
 avenue, on horseback ; but 'twill be some time be- 
 fore he reaches the house. Shall I call Manuel to 
 take his horse ?" 
 
 'Certainly. I am sure it is Ernest, for he has 
 had ample time for his journey." 
 
 She leaves the room, to give a few instructions, 
 and, five minutes later, stands on the balcony, 
 greeting their visitor. 
 
 "You are my father's friend?" she asks, looking 
 timidly into his deep gray eyes. 
 
 " I am," answered the handsome stranger. " May 
 I see him?" 
 
 "Yes; this way, please. He has fretted greatly 
 for you." She conducts him to a cool, shady apart- 
 ment, where the sufferer lies, propped up among 
 snowy pillows. 
 
 "Thank God, that you have come at last!" ex- 
 claimed Mr. Merle as he feels the close, firm pressure 
 of Earnest Greyson's hands. " I have prayed earn- 
 estly to see you once more before my death." 
 
 " Let us hope, my dear fellow, that the case is not 
 so bad," says Earnest cheerfully. 
 
 Mr. Merle only shook his head, and turning to 
 Conchita said :
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 9 
 
 " My dear, show Mr. Greyson to his room. I am 
 sure he is hot and dusty." 
 
 With a " Follow me, please;" she leads him to a 
 large, airy room, the very appearance of which, 
 filled the weary traveler with a sense of repose. 
 
 " If you need anything," she continues, " call one 
 of the servants. We have tea at six," and, with an 
 " adios " she retires. 
 
 "How perfectly delicious!" cried Earnest Grey- 
 son, dropping into a large easy rocker. " This trop- 
 ical heat certainly makes one very indolent. So, 
 my fair conductress is poor Francis' daughter. 
 The ' little girl ' I am to care for. I wonder what 
 my adorable sister will say when I return with such 
 a beauty"? The girl will certainly upset some of her 
 schemes, unless, indeed, she is put in short dresses 
 and consigned to the nursery. Ah, well, there's no 
 use fretting till trouble really comes," with which 
 comforting reflection, he fell asleep, and feels 
 much refreshed when 'Mannel appears to announce 
 the evening meal. 
 
 Many varieties of fruit graced the table pine- 
 apples, guavas, mangoes, sapadilloes, sour-sops, 
 bananas, Spanish-limes, Avocado-pears, etc., etc., 
 mingled with brilliant tropical flowers, and soft 
 green foliage. 
 
 Earnest, who was unacquainted with most of 
 these southern fruits, had to content himself with 
 very simple fare. 
 
 Conchita, who presided with ease and grace, was 
 much distressed that their visitor enjoyed so few 
 of the Mexican dainties set before him. 
 
 She resolved that, during his stay, their bill of 
 fare should be more American..
 
 10 CONCHITA. 
 
 The meal finished, she proposes showing him over 
 the grounds. 
 
 "This," she says, as they enter a vine-clad sum- 
 mer house," is my special property. Is it not a 
 fairy bower?" 
 
 "It is, indeed, and here" stooping to examine a 
 night-blooming cereus, "I see a long list of fairy 
 visitors." 
 
 "Yes, and if you observe the first date, you can 
 form some idea of the age and growth of the plant. 
 But come let me show you elsewhere." 
 
 On she led him through great, feathery fern- 
 trees, gorgeous foliage plants ; past rippling fount- 
 ains, sprinkling flowers of many hues; dainty 
 orchids, clinging to the rough trunks of stately 
 palms ; and down the white shell walk to the tiny 
 lake, whose clear waters so perfectly reflect the 
 brilliant tinting of a tropic sky. 
 
 On they roam, till the lengthening shadows warn 
 them to return. 
 
 Next day, the two old friends have a long talk 
 about Conchita's future ; Ernest promising to be- 
 come her guardian, and, as nearly as possible, fill 
 her father's place. 
 
 "You know, dear friend, that my own life has 
 not been happy, but I shall try in every way, to 
 shield her from danger." 
 
 " I know you will. But, promise me one thing 
 that you will not permit my poor child to marry 
 early. Her cousin, Alfonso Castro, and herself, 
 formed some childish engagement years ago, but I 
 don't think their dispositions at all suited at any 
 rate, don't let them marry till she is old enough to 
 decide for herself." 
 
 "I promise," returned his companion, bitterly.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 11 
 
 " I, of all others, should know the misery of a hasty 
 marriage." 
 
 " Ah, you are not rid of her yet ?" 
 
 " No, and fear I never shall be. She was in Paris 
 when I heard last, but travels considerably." 
 
 " My poor friend ! and you so young. Why you 
 are only thirty-five " 
 
 " Thirty-four, last March. Much too young for 
 the miserable years before me but let us speak of 
 something more agreeable." 
 
 They talked of their school days, when Earnest, 
 quite a youngster, regarded his older friend as little 
 less than a god ; of the many "jolly larks" they had 
 enjoyed, foreign lands they had visited and odd 
 people they had met. 
 
 Greyson was a pleasant companion, and for a little 
 while the sick man rallied ; but one morning, while 
 quite alone with his daughter, Francis Merle dropped 
 peacefully into his last sleep. 
 
 She, poor child, had never looked on death, and 
 thinking 'twas only a faint, hastened to call help ; 
 and could hardly believe it, when Mr. Greyson 
 tenderly assured her that " Papa " was in heaven. 
 
 Though completely overcome, she would not annoy 
 him with her grief but shutting herself in her own 
 room, would see no one but "Auntie." 
 
 As Senora Castro's husband had long been dead, 
 and her son was now absent, the entire responsibility 
 of the funeral fell on Greyson. Twas well h.e so 
 thoroughly understood Spanish ; for, excepting Con- 
 chita, none of the household spoke English. 
 
 Two days after this sad event, Conchita and he 
 left for New York. 
 
 Senora Castro had anxiously begged to keep her
 
 12 CONCHITA. 
 
 niece in Mexico, but Mr. Greyson kindly, but de- 
 cidedly, refused. 
 
 'Chita's parting from the good lady was filled with 
 many tears and caresses, and a whispered, "Be 
 sure you keep your heart for my poor boy, dearie." 
 
 "Poor Poll," of course could not be left, so was 
 securely housed in a pretty cage. She objected 
 strongly to such treatment, promising loudly to "be 
 a good girl and not swear."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " A ND this is New York ?" asks Chita, as their 
 1\ steamer nears the pier. "What a very, very 
 large place it must be." 
 
 "It is," returned her guardian, "but you can not 
 see a third of it from here. I'll take you some day 
 to the top of old Trinity, where you'll get a much 
 finer view." 
 
 No sooner did the tide of passengers begin to 
 leave the boat, than the loud, distracting noise of 
 hackmen, draymen, porters, each recommending 
 his hotel or vehicle, commenced with all its fury. 
 
 Conchita, totally unaccustomed to such commo- 
 tion, was terribly bewildered. But her guardian, 
 quite at home in this pandemonium, soon had her- 
 self and belongings, Poll included, comfortably set- 
 tled in a cab, and instructed the driver to take them 
 to " No. Fifth Avenue." 
 
 Soon they reach a handsome brownstone jiront, and 
 the driver, springing from his seat, rings the door- 
 bell. The door is opened, in a few minutes, by a liv- 
 eried servant, who bows low, on seeing his master. 
 
 " Glad to see you back, sir," he said, beginning at 
 once to gather up their luggage. 
 
 "Thank you Simpson," returned his master. 
 " Take those things to the morning room, and 
 ask Mrs. Paulding to meet us there. Come, my 
 dear," assisting 'Chita from the carriage, "let me 
 welcome you to your new home. I sincerely hope 
 you will be happy in it."
 
 14 CONCHITA. 
 
 "Yes," screams Poll, at the top of her voice, 
 " you must be happy !" 
 
 "Ah, you termagant !" laughs Greyson, "I don't 
 know what my sister will say to you." 
 
 " I will not curse !" she croaks, as they enter the 
 sitting mom. 
 
 Here they find Mrs. Paulding, a rather stout, 
 though terribly dignified lady, dressed in the latest 
 fashion. 
 
 She kisses her brother coldly, then, turning to 
 'Chita surveys her insolently, remarking sarcasti- 
 cally, '' So, this is the 'little girl,' the young infant 
 you wished me to care for ? really, my dear brother, 
 you are in need of spectacles." 
 
 Nevertheless, she extends her plump white hand 
 for the "young infant " to press, but steps back in 
 indignant amaze when Poll, now perched on her 
 mistress's shoulder, stretches out one foot, saying 
 in Spanish, " Polly too ! Poor Poll !" 
 
 "Earnest !" thundered his sister in awful accents, 
 "do you expect me, a Christian woman to live in 
 the house with that thing ?" 
 
 " Certainly, Madam. However, we can discuss 
 that subject later; just now, I should be obliged if 
 you would jshow Conchita to her room." 
 
 " Conchita ! What a heathenish name ! No ; I 
 will ring for Louise." 
 
 " Conchita was my mother's name," says our 
 heroine, her dark eyes flashing defiantly, "and I 
 would thank you to be a little more respectful to 
 her memory. " 
 
 Fortunately, Louise, the maid, appeared at this 
 crisis, and on receiving the order, conducted Con- 
 chita to her apartment. It greatly resembled a 
 nursery, for Mrs. Paulding, like her brother, had
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 15 
 
 imagined Mr. Merle's " little girl " still a small child. 
 
 'Chita's baggage had been already brought up, 
 and Louise, politely attentive, asks if she should un- 
 pack and arrange her things ? 
 
 But no, Miss Merle wants nothing but quiet, so 
 the kindly disposed servant leaves her. 
 
 But she is not long alone, for, scarcely had the 
 door closed, when a quick rap is heard, and before 
 permission is given, it is opened and shut with a 
 loud bang. 
 
 'Chita regards her unceremonious visitor in silent 
 astonishment. 
 
 She is a rather pretty little blonde of twenty 
 years, with neat, slender figure and vivacious man- 
 ners. 
 
 After one good look, she seizes 'Chita in her arms 
 and, giving her a vigorous hug and kiss, exclaims : 
 
 " There ! I knew, just the minute I looked at you 
 that I should fall quite in love ! But of course you 
 have no idea who I am. Allow me, Miss Merle," 
 with an extravagant drawing-room curtesy" to 
 present to your kindly consideration Miss Viva 
 Paulding, daughter of the exceedingly sweet tem- 
 pered lady you met down stairs. But the idea " she 
 continued, throwing herself upon the bed, and giv- 
 ing her companion no time for reply, " of our think- 
 ing you a baby, and fixing up such a room I declare 
 it is too ridiculous " 
 
 "Chatter! Chatter!" interrupts Poll. "Bad girl 
 talk too much." 
 
 " Oh, you dear, delightful old thing ! You were 
 the cause of my mother's black looks how I do 
 wish you could speak English ! Conchita, child, 
 why don't you say something ? you have not opened 
 your mouth since I've been in the room."
 
 16 CONCHITA, 
 
 "Because, my dear young lady, you have given 
 me no opportunity." 
 
 "There!" pouted the chatter-box, "one would 
 think you my Uncle's own child. The very first re- 
 mark you make is a reproach to my constant chat- 
 ter and that, you must know, is his lordship's pet 
 theme." 
 
 "You misunderstand," says 'Chita, smilingly, "I 
 rather like your talk it is novel," 
 
 " Oh, how perfectly delightful ! You are a rare 
 treasure, my love ! You cannot imagine the ex- 
 quisite joy it is to talk to an appreciative listener 
 but my dear child, how is it you speak such plain 
 English? Scarcely a perceptible accent." 
 
 "My Father taught me/' "My Uncle speaks 
 Spanish nicely, doesn't he ? I've heard so, but am 
 no judge of such small matters by the by what 
 do you think of the old fellow handsome, isn't he ? 
 I'm real proud of him." 
 
 "He is also kind and gentle." 
 
 "Gentle? poor child! you know nothing about 
 him. Wait till you've had a few royal rows oh yes ! 
 he is kind enough when you don't rouse him. You 
 must be a pink of propriety, my dear, never say or 
 do naughty things, humbly beg pardon for things 
 you never do, regulate both your thoughts and 
 actions to Ms will, or you will encounter storms! 
 But I won't tell any more tales, for I really love 
 Uncle Earnest in spite of our many skirmishes, and 
 he is just as good as he is bad so there now ! Well," 
 rising to withdraw, " I must tear myself away for 
 a short time only and strongly recommend a good 
 sound nap." 
 
 She disappears, and 'Chita, following her advice,, 
 is soon in dreamland.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " A ND I would ask, merely as a matter of curiosity 
 
 1\ of course, I have no personal feelings if 
 you expect that aggravating parrot to remain 
 here ?" 
 
 A week has passed since our heroine's arrival, and 
 Mrs. Paulding, in her coldest, most biting tones is 
 engaged in what Viva terms "the delightful occu- 
 pation of nagging Uncle Earnest." 
 
 But she doesn't make much of it this morning, for 
 when tormented, he can be as hard as rock. His 
 manner is icily polished, as he replies : 
 
 "1 shall gratify your curiosity on this occasion, 
 though, as a rule, I never encourage it. Yes, I ex- 
 pect the parrot to remain where she is. Any other 
 information my dear ?" 
 
 They always said " my dear " when angry. 
 
 She was furious and sincerely wished that he was 
 thirty years younger, so that she might indulge 
 not her curiosity, but her anger by a direct appli- 
 cation of the slipper. 
 
 But, remembering her entire dependence on him, 
 she refrained from saying anything more bitter 
 than : 
 
 "My wishes, then, are not to be considered, when 
 opposed to those of a silly girl ! Really, one would 
 think there is still truth in the old saw, ' No fool
 
 18 CONCHITA. 
 
 like an old fool ! ' The one woman whose every 
 whim you gratified in days gone by " 
 
 " Alice ! " he thundered, " never mention that 
 name, or by the living God you will repent it ! I am 
 master here, and, if you wish to be driven out by a 
 poor, unoffending girl and a senseless bird, go ! We 
 will endeavor to bear your absence." 
 
 She rose, and assuming her most majestic man- 
 ner, passed through the door which he politely held 
 open. 
 
 Earnest Greyson, ten years before our story be- 
 gan, had become so completely infatuated with a 
 beautiful French actress, that he married, and, as 
 his sister said, "pandered to her every whim." 
 
 The fascination lasted, till, one miserable day, 
 about six months after marriage, he found, beyond 
 the possibility of a doubt, that she had been untrue 
 to him. 
 
 They had a few words he in a terrible rage, she 
 exasperatingly cool. That very night, she ran away 
 with a former lover, and her husband saw her no 
 more. 
 
 He had no difficulty in procuring a divorce, but 
 nothing could fill the great, bitter void of his heart . 
 But hard work is a great comforter ; so, devoting 
 himself to his favorite study Law, he soon became 
 known as a talented solicitor, much sought after in 
 difficult cases. 
 
 His sister, Mrs. Paulding, becoming a widow just 
 then, gladly accepted his offer of a home, for she 
 was by no means well off. Unfortunately, all 
 parties had strong wills and hot tempers, which 
 often caused much unpleasantness. 
 
 Viva and Uncle Earnest indulged in many " little
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 19 
 
 skirmishes," but their mutual affection prevented 
 anything more serious. 
 
 Of the beautiful wretch, once his wife, Earnest 
 often heard through the press ; for she had returned 
 to the stage under her old name whether real, or 
 assumed, he never knew. 
 
 And now, though quite wealthy, he was known 
 as one of the hardest workers in the city ; a cold, 
 polished man, caring nothing for society, a verita- 
 ble woman hater; just, but exacting. 
 
 Highly honorable ; a fine matrimonial catch, but 
 not catchable. In fact, a non-committal man. 
 
 As Conchita was in deep mourning, and could not, 
 with propriety, enter society, Mrs. Paulding decided 
 to give up their usual sea-side visit, and spend the 
 remainder of the hot weather in some quiet mount- 
 ain retreat. 
 
 Mr. Greyson would join them later, should the 
 hunting and fishing prove good. 
 
 So they packed, and after a few hours run, found 
 themselves comfortably settled in a large, airy 
 farm-house, whose fat, good-natured mistress 
 thought nothing too good for the young ladies, but 
 to whom " Madam " was a great terror. 
 
 Mr. Greyson, being duly informed of the game 
 supply, wrote that he would join them shortly. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding spends most of her time in reading 
 novels, preserving her complexion, polishing her 
 nails, taking naps and scolding the girls. 
 
 "Conchita," says Viva one afternoon, "I am 
 tired to death of this dull life ! Let us do something 
 outrageous ! Anything for variety, you know." 
 
 "What do you propose ?" asked her quieter com- 
 panion. 
 
 "Why can you ride on horseback?"
 
 20 CONCHITA. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, my pet, I have a lovely plan which we 
 can carry out beautifully if you only have the proper 
 spirit. You know that horse of Mrs. Simms' the 
 long backed one we saw plowing now, I propose, 
 Miss Propriety, that we take a ride on the graceful 
 animal. What thinkest thou?" 
 
 "Surely you don't mean for both of us to ride 
 him at the same time ?" 
 
 " 'Surely' I do," she mimics. 
 
 "But Mrs. Simms will she not object?" 
 
 "Ask her nothing about it. There's no harm 
 and I'll think it real down mean if you refuse. Say 
 quick yes or no ?" 
 
 "Well, if you think there is no harm I know so 
 little of American ways we may as Well have the 
 frolic. But, Viva, what would your mother say ?" 
 
 " Oh, let her say who cares ? What's the use of 
 being young if you never have any fun ? Come 
 along, let's hunt a bridle and saddle, though I am 
 sure I have no idea how to put them on the 
 creature." 
 
 Away they go, find the proper equipments, then 
 catch the horse, a long bodied animal, quite capable 
 of carrying double. But how to saddle him ? Both 
 had often seen it done, but had no definite idea on 
 the subject. At last he is "rigged" to their satis- 
 faction, and 'Chita, mounted in the saddle, Viva 
 holding on behind, they start on their pleasure trip, 
 laughing gaily at every step. 
 
 "Can't vou make him go a little faster?" asks 
 Viva, as they canter down the most sequestered 
 road in the neighborhood. "What's the use of 
 poking through life ?" 
 
 "I think not/' returns 'Chita. "We are nearly at
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 21 
 
 full speed now, and I am afraid you would fall, 
 should lie begin running. 
 
 " Oh, I can stay on. He is fat and lazy, and needs 
 the switch." Taking the switch from 'Chita, she 
 gives one sharp cut across his back. Here is her 
 own description of what followed : 
 
 " The switch had barely touched him when the 
 miserable wretch gave such a spring that I tumbled 
 off. Recovering from the shock, I looked about for 
 my late companions, and saw them flying along at 
 full speed. 'Chita, her long black hair floating far 
 behind, her little hands clutching wildly at the reins, 
 remained firmly seated, though I know she was 
 scared most to death. Of course I followed as fast 
 as possible, making hundreds of resolutions never, 
 never to do it again, when to nay infinite relief, I 
 saw a man spring from the wood, catch the bridle 
 and hold the horse quite still ! He lifted 'Chita 
 down, and she stood leaning against a tree. I was 
 awfully glad to find she was not hurt -only a little 
 'weak from her unusual exertion. But imagine my 
 amaze, on turning to thank our preserver, to find 
 him no other than my old crony, Harry McAlister." 
 
 " Oh Harry !" she exclaimed, " you are a perfect 
 jewel ! What on earth should we have done with- 
 out you? And how did you happen to be so 
 near?" 
 
 " This, you must know, my dear young lady, is 
 favorite hunting ground. But who is your friend ?" 
 he asks, lowering his voice. " She's a perfect 
 beauty !" 
 
 "Oh that's Uncle Earnest Greyson's ward 
 just from Mexico come, let me introduce you." 
 
 The girls explain their adventure, and they chat 
 merrily for some time. Finally, Viva remarks :
 
 XX CONCHITA. 
 
 "Well, I should like to know how we are to get 
 back. I have not the remotest idea which way to 
 start ; have you, 'Chita ?" 
 
 " No ;" answered that young lady, "but if you 
 are not afraid to remount, the;' horse will take us 
 back." 
 
 Viva was willing, especially when Mr. McAlister 
 assured them that there was no danger ; that their 
 steed had cooled down, and would not run of his 
 own accord. 
 
 "Now, Harry," says Viva, " if ever you let Uncle 
 Earnest hear of this scrape, I'll clip your accquaint- 
 ance." 
 
 " ' Is thy servant a dog ? ' " quotes he. " Rest as- 
 sured, 'twill never reach him ; for how could I en- 
 dure life without your sweet smile ? But, do be 
 merciful and let me call." 
 
 " Oh we'll be charmed, if you behave nicely, and 
 don't tell tales. We are at Mrs. Simms' you know 
 where she lives ?" 
 
 " No, but can soon find out. Good-bye !" he calls, 
 as they gently canter down the road. 
 
 "Well," he mused, "if Miss Viva does not get 
 herself into serious trouble, I'll be surprised. What 
 imp of thoughtlessness could have prompted her to 
 ride a strange horse double, at that ? The other 
 one, though she's true mettle. How superbly she 
 held her own ! But Viva she'll need a strong, firm 
 hand to control her restless nature." And wonder- 
 ing, vaguely, if his hands were strong and firm 
 enough for the undertaking, he picks up his gun 
 and hunting-bag; and walks slowly off, to his 
 boarding-house.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 says Viva, as they come near the 
 house, " suppose someone sees us. What 
 shall we do ?" 
 
 " Why, put the horse where we got him, and con- 
 fess to Mrs. Simms. 'Twould be better, any way." 
 
 " You may be right ; I feel repentant enough to 
 show my penitence in any way.' 
 
 Fortunately, they escape notice, and putting the 
 horse and his gear where they found them, make 
 their way to the house, looking as demure as 
 nuns. 
 
 In the cool, shady parlor, they find Mr. Greyson, 
 who had arrived before he was expected. 
 
 "Ah, young ladies !" he exclaims, laying aside his 
 book, "come here and give an account of your- 
 selves. I have been here," glancing at his watch, 
 " two hours and a half, yet, till now, have been un- 
 able to see or hear of you. Where have you been, 
 my dears ?" 
 
 " Well, my dear," says Viva, mimicing his tone, 
 " do you want the truth, or a fib ?" 
 
 ' ' The truth, always, you saucy piece," he returns 
 with a laugh. 
 
 "Very well, then ask no uncomfortable questions, 
 for we shall neither tell where we have been, nor 
 anything about this afternoon's occupation. Shall 
 we 'Chita?"
 
 24: CONCHITA. 
 
 " I should feel better satisfied if we told you? 
 Uncle," returns her companion. 
 
 "Well I should not. So my dear Uncle, you 
 must really excuse us. Come Conchita, we must 
 dress before her ladyship discovers us." 
 
 Later on, in their own room she remarks severely : 
 
 " What is the use of confessing everything ? I 
 suppose, that, being a Catholic, you have to tell all 
 your misdoings to the priest but there is no earthly 
 use in making Uncle Earnest your Father Con- 
 fessor." 
 
 " But Viva, is it right to deceive him, even in a 
 trifle ?" 
 
 " Why, child, we don't deceive him we simply 
 don't tell him. Don't you see, Miss Innocence ?" 
 
 Mr. McAlister called a few evenings later. 
 
 " Why Harry," exclaimed Mr. Greyson, " how did 
 you know we were here ?" 
 
 "Oh," he answered carelessly, "I met the young 
 ladies in their rambles, and begged permission to 
 call 'twas granted only on peculiar conditions 
 But receiving a warning glance from Viva's blue 
 eyes, he abruptly changed the subject. 
 
 Harry and Viva had long been devoted friends 
 and firm allies in many a piece of mischief. They 
 had been intimate for years, and teased, tormented, 
 and admired each other immensely. 
 
 Though not wealthy, his bread was comfortably 
 buttered ; for his bachelor apartments were luxuri- 
 ous, his saddle horse one of the finest, his tandem 
 incomparable, his garments perfection. He had 
 some talent, and would, probably, have succeeded 
 in literature had fortune been less kind. True, 
 when overcome by periodical spells of industry, he 
 wrote breezy, spicy articles which were usually
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 25 
 
 accepted. But, being naturally indolent, and need- 
 ing the spur of necessity, he failed in application. 
 
 Notwithstanding the difference of age and posi- 
 tion, Mr. Greyson and he were very fond of each 
 other; and were, therefore, mutually delighted to 
 meet in this sleepy little country town. 
 
 Viva was delighted at his acquisition, for unless 
 in some mischief, time hung heavily on her hands ; 
 and, since their last escapade, 'Chita declined posi- 
 tively engaging in another. 
 
 At last, to her great relief, they return home. 
 Cool weather is at hand, and the fashionable world 
 will soon begin its round of pleasure. All its 
 daughters, therefore, must be up and doing. 
 
 "Mr. Greyson," said 'Chita one morning, as they 
 sit in the library, " I should like to take music and 
 drawing lessons, if you do not object." 
 
 " Certainly, child, why should I ?" regarding her 
 kindly. " 1 shall engage you proper instructors to- 
 day. Would you prefer private lessons, or going as 
 ' special ' to one of our fashionable schools ?" 
 
 " Private lessons, please ; I should feel so awk- 
 ward among a lot of fashionable young ladies." 
 
 "Just as you like," he says, smiling at her dis- 
 gusted look. " I recommend also, a course of reading. 
 Historic, scientific or classic. You will, soon, be 
 entirely deprived of Viva's company, for society will 
 demand her every thought. I can, if you like, read 
 with you two hours, both morning and evening." 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! But has not society claims on 
 you ? Should I take so much of your time ?" 
 
 " Society is nothing to me, while you you should 
 take all the time I can give you." 
 
 "You are kind," she says, pressing her ripe red 
 lips gratefully to his strong, white hand.
 
 26 CONCHITA. 
 
 "Kind!" he exclaims, flushing hotly, "yes, tp 
 myself." 
 
 So it came to pass, that each morning, from eight 
 to ten, and the same hours every evening, Conchita 
 and her guardian might be found, busily engaged 
 in study. 
 
 He proved a delightful teacher; and, while she 
 thoroughly enjoyed each book they read, lie was 
 making an unconscious study of her. 
 
 "Earnest," remarked Mrs. Paulding, in an an- 
 noyed tone, several weeks after 'Chita's lessons be- 
 gan, " I really think it very inconsiderate in you to 
 have that girl constantly thumping on the drawing- 
 room piano. Simpson has brought in company sev- 
 eral times, to find her thumping away at the five- 
 finger exercises it is too horribly vexatious !" 
 
 " Excuse me, Mrs. Paulding, I accidentally over- 
 heard your remark," says 'Chita, entering with her 
 books. "Believe me I will give up my lessons, 
 rather than inconvenience you." 
 
 "You shall do nothing of the sort." Her guardi- 
 an's tone is quiet, but his face has assumed what 
 Viva calls his "black look." " It is my wish that you 
 continue. Professor N" says you have remark- 
 able talent, which should be cultivated. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding, I can arrange this matter satisfac- 
 torily to all parties so, say nothing more about it." 
 
 Next morning, on entering the library, Conchita 
 is both surprised and delighted to see a handsome 
 piano. 
 
 "Yes," says her guardian, answering her elo- 
 quent eyes. " I had it brought for your own use ; 
 and, as we occupy this room, almost exclusively, 
 expect to hear no complaints. Are you pleased, lit- 
 tle woman? Ah, I see you are."
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 27 
 
 "My dear, dear guardian/' she murmurs, sinking 
 on the stool beside him, and covering his hand with 
 kisses," you are too kind and good to me." 
 
 "You think me kind, little one ?" pressing an un- 
 seen kiss upon her dark hair. "Most people would 
 tell you I am a hard, stern man." 
 
 " Never, to me ! You are much kinder than I de- 
 serve but Mr. Greyson, why does your sister dislike 
 me ? I try my utmost to please her, but - 
 
 " Try not to mind her," he interrupts, "she has 
 had a case of chronic ill-temper for years but, Con- 
 chita, if ever you are annoyed, when little troubles 
 arise, will you not come to me for aid ?" 
 
 "Gladly, "she answers, wondering how anyone 
 could think him unkind.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A YEAR has passed since the occurrence of the 
 above conversation ; and during that time our 
 heroine has made rapid progress both in music and 
 drawing. 
 
 Professor N never tires of praising " Miss 
 
 Merle's wonderful voice and exquisite touch." 
 
 Her life, during the past year, had been quiet, 
 though not unhappy; for, though she could not 
 escape an occasional jar with Mrs. Paulding, the 
 hours spent with her art work, and above all, those 
 delightful morning and evening studies, more 
 than compensated. 
 
 Viva, occasionally, entertained her with lengthy 
 descriptions of balls, receptions, kettle-drums, etc., 
 and often insisted on 'Chita's putting the finishing 
 touches to some elaborate toilette, declaring her 
 arrangement of draperies, flowers and ribbons far 
 better than Louise's. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding, sometimes gave a recherche little 
 dinner at which Conchita, though excused from 
 larger parties, was expected to appear. 
 
 Here she met many refined, intelligent people, all 
 of whom showed a kindly interest in the young 
 Mexican. 
 
 Mr. McAlister called often, always asking for Miss 
 Merle, but rarely seeing her.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 29 
 
 "Conchita," said he guarrdian one day in March, 
 
 " Prof. N is very anxious to have you sing at 
 
 Mrs. Leonard's concert. He attacked me fiercely 
 last night." 
 
 "Why," she returns in surprise, "I told Mrs. 
 Leonard last week I could not oblige her, and she 
 spoke of getting someone else." 
 
 " But failed. When does the affair take place ?" 
 
 " Next Wednesday I am sorry to disappoint her, 
 but she should not have depended on me for so 
 difficult a part. Then, you know, I am still in 
 mourning." 
 
 " Rather than have her engage a professional, you 
 had better take the part. Your dress, she tells me, 
 should be pure white." 
 
 " Of course I shall if you wish it. Prof. N 
 
 thinks I can learn it easily he has been training 
 the others, you know." 
 
 " Very well, I know the good lady will be relieved. 
 Speak to Mrs. Paul ding about ordering your cos- 
 tume -ah, that reminds me, here is your allow- 
 ance," handing her a roll of bilk;, 
 
 The concert they spoke of was a charitable enter- 
 tainment gotten up by Mrs. Leonard, one of the 
 select few Conchita had met since her residence in 
 the great metropolis. 
 
 Now, Mrs. Leonard had set her heart on 'Chita's 
 taking the principal part in the cantata, well know- 
 ing her striking tropical beauty and rich young 
 voice would cause a sensation among the upper 
 crust. Finding that her persuasions were useless, 
 she appealed in such piteous terms to Mr. Greyson, 
 that he, as we have just seen, gave his assistance. 
 
 The important evening arrives, and Conchita 
 stands before her mirror, clad in a long, trailing
 
 30 CONCHITA. 
 
 white silk, gracefully draped with tulle. Her beau- 
 tiful shoulders are bare, and her well rounded arms 
 but partly concealed by the long white gloves. 
 Dainty satin slippers peep from beneath her dress, 
 and in her long, flowing tresses is a cluster of lilies- 
 of-the-valley. A spray of the same is fastened at 
 her left shoulder, and, crossing the front, diago- 
 nally, is lost, somewhere in the back draperies. 
 
 As she stands thus, surveying herself approv- 
 ingly, Louise enters with the information that the 
 carriage is waiting, but Mr. Grey son " wants to see 
 you in the library, Miss." 
 
 He is pacing the room with rapid strides, an open 
 telegram in his hand. 
 
 "I am very sorry, dear child," he says as she en- 
 ters," but I am compelled to leave for R on the 
 
 twelve thirty. You cannot imagine how I regret 
 missing your performance. But " glancing at the 
 message "the call is imperative." 
 
 "I too am sorry," she returns" for I sing simply 
 to please you. But " anxiously, " do you like my 
 appearance ?" 
 
 " Yes," observing her critically, " That dark cur- 
 tain makes an excellent background I would like 
 your picture, just as you stand the pose is perfect. 
 
 Well, I must not detain you," taking both her 
 hands he presses his lips to her snowy brow, whis- 
 pering softly, "good-bye, my little shell,"* then 
 almost roughly, pushes her from him. 
 
 She, totally unaccustomed to such caresses, was 
 so disconcerted that she entirely forgot the car- 
 riage, and was surprised when Louise warned her 
 that "Mrs. Paulding is awfully impatient, Miss 
 about waiting so long." 
 
 * Conchita little shell. ;
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 31 
 
 "So relieved, my love," says Mrs. Leonard, as 
 Chita enters the dressing-room. "The others arrived 
 some time ago and the house is simply crowded ; 
 I am sure the evening will be a perfect success. 
 Ah ! your costume is exquisite /" 
 
 The large parlors, which had assumed much the 
 appearance of a theatre, are crowded with well 
 dressed people, all charmed " to help the poor " by 
 attending a concert under the auspices of the fash- 
 ionable Mrs. Leonard. 
 
 The affair passes off with eclat . Conchita receives 
 many compliments on her voice and beauty. As 
 soon as the curtain fell on the first scene, the mini- 
 ature green room was so besieged by impressiona- 
 ble young men, all begging "an introduction to the 
 new beauty," that Mrs. Leonard, tormented almost 
 out of her senses, promised that if they let her 
 alone, and kept others away, she would " try to 
 persuade Miss Merle to receive you, though you 
 must know she is still at her studies, and will not 
 come out for some time." 
 
 Consequently, Conchita, who is quite burdened 
 with bouquets, is led forth willingly or not, and 
 presented to numerous admirers. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding regards all this adulation with a 
 disapproving eye, and suggests, as soon as possible 
 that "as 'Chita is certainly tired, we will return 
 home. And the infatuated dandies conceive a great 
 dislike to the portly lady as she sweeps down the 
 room, with the two attractive girls following closely 
 in her wake. 
 
 "Well, Conchita," remarks Mr. Greyson, a few r 
 days after his return, "I hear you created a great 
 sensation at Mrs. Leonard's. I've been terribly 
 bored by a lot of young fellows who seem to have
 
 32 CONCHITA. 
 
 gone crazy over your voice, your manner, your eyes, 
 and your costume." 
 
 " Yes," chimed in Viva, " one young spoon com- 
 pared her eyes to ' midnight stars !' Though why 
 1 midnight ' I cannot imagine. Another vowed she 
 was the personification of ' her bright smile haunts 
 me still ! ' while still another, saw in her Byron's 
 'Maid of Athens.' And, really, now, if I should re- 
 peat one-half they said, her poor little head would 
 be completely turned." 
 
 " Oh, please don't !" begged 'Chita, blushing hotly. 
 " It really makes me ashamed." 
 
 " Ashamed, you silly girl ! why, you should be de- 
 lighted. Only think how charmed I should be to 
 have such lovely things said of me." 
 
 " I must say, Viva, it is illjudged, to say the least 
 of it, to repeat all this nonsense." Mrs. Paulding's 
 tone is anything but pleasant, as she continues, 
 " You certainly, have been long enough in society 
 to understand that far more than half the compli- 
 ments paid are only skin deep." 
 
 il Really," replied her daughter, almost too inno- 
 cently, " then, I suppose 'twas only lip-service when 
 old Dr. Brownlow complimented you so highly on 
 your youthful appearance." 
 
 Her mother flushed angrily, but was too com- 
 pletely cornered to reply.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 second summer is passed very 
 differently from the one spent in the hospita- 
 ble mansion of good Mrs. Simms. 
 
 By the first of July our three ladies are enjoying 
 all the gaieties of Newport. 
 
 Mr. Greyson, who heartily despises gay watering 
 places, spoke of going to some quiet mountain re- 
 treat, and his ward begged to accompany him ; but 
 Mrs. Paulding sternly assured her such a plan was 
 too " highly improper to be thought of, even f o~ a 
 moment." 
 
 " Conchita," remarks Viva, the evening they 
 arrive at this gay sea-side resort, " I hear there is a 
 Spanish Don and English Duke in our hotel. Now 
 suppose we try our powers of fascination I speak 
 for the Englishman, as my knowledge of Spanish is 
 much too limited to conduct a successful campaign. 
 I might misconstrue some tender remark, you know, 
 and cause untold mischief so, I shall don my blue 
 silk, array myself in pearls and prepare to conquer 
 'John Bull.'" 
 
 " And in what shall I clothe myself to captivate 
 the noble Spaniard ?" laughs 'Chita. 
 
 " All your things are lovely, but I really think 
 that lemon colored gauze would enchant him. Be 
 sure you take the fan to match, for you handle it 
 with the true grace of your nation and as good 
 luck would have it, here is a Cloth of Gold for your
 
 34 CONCHITA. 
 
 dusky tresses," examining the flowers just sent in. 
 "Which of my adorers could have sent it?" 
 
 " Come girls/' says Mrs. Paulding," we have time 
 for a short walk before dinner." 
 
 ' ( Well, I declare !" exclaims Viva as they stroll 
 leisurely along the beach, "if there isn't Harry 
 McAlister, talking to our intended admirers at 
 least, they must be our Don and Duke, for just see 
 what distinguished looking men they are ! My ! 
 but isn't the Don handsome ? Oh that I could speak 
 his soft, liquid language ! Your chance would be 
 nowhere !" 
 
 They certainly were fine-looking men, with that 
 unmistakable air of breeding which always stamps 
 the real gentleman. 
 
 Harry soon recognizes his friends, and, with a bow 
 to the gentlemen, joins the ladies in their prome- 
 nade. 
 
 " And are they really the foreigners I've heard so 
 much about ?" asks Viva. 
 
 "Yes," he answers, "and they stared hard, as 
 soon as they set eyes on you." 
 
 "Oh, how delightful! You must know, Chita 
 and I expect to make victims of them if they stay 
 
 long enough. Now, I think ' Viva, duchess of ' 
 
 what's his name?" 
 
 "Duke of C 
 
 "'Viva, duchess of C ,' would look simply 
 
 charming in the papers don't you?" 
 
 " No, 'twould be horrible to my eyes. I think 
 but of course you don't care what I think." 
 
 "No, of course not," very sweetly. 
 
 "And / think," remarks 'Chita with an amused 
 smile," it is worse than foolish for you two to quar- 
 rel over a thing, a name, rather, that in all proba-
 
 A MEXICAN ROAIAXCE. :'!."> 
 
 bility, will never exist. Silly children ! you should 
 be ashamed of yourselves. 1 am sure, if only smaller 
 you would pull hair, and claw each other, ' tooth 
 and nail." 
 
 "Now honestly, 'Chita," asks Viva, "wouldn't 
 you be heart-broken if deprived of the opportunity 
 of becoming Donna ?" 
 
 "No, indeed! I should much prefer being plain 
 Mrs. Blank." 
 
 "That remark, Miss Merle," says Harry, "shows 
 the good sense of a well-balanced mind. Our 
 American girls are often so crazy as literally to sell 
 themselves for a title." 
 
 " And among that class of harmless lunatics, you 
 probably class this young person, whose poor brain 
 has never yet been able to attain a stable equilibri- 
 um ?" asks Viva, scornfully. 
 
 " Viva !" exclaims her mother, greatly shocked, 
 " Mr. McAlister's remarks were general ; you have 
 no right to make them personal. But we must 
 hurry back and dress for dinner ." 
 
 " May I have the first waltz ?" whispers Harry, as 
 he assists Viva up the steps of their hotel. 
 
 But she turns a deaf ear, and marches off in dig- 
 nified silence. 
 
 Conchita lingers a few minutes to comfort him, 
 for she knows, in spite of their many squabbles they 
 are really fond of each other. 
 
 The brilliant lights, fine music, beautifully waxed 
 floors, bright eyes and exquisite costumes, all rend- 
 ered the ball-room very attractive to pleasure seekers. 
 
 Our party had no sooner entered the room, than 
 "our mutual friend," the floor manager, begged 
 permission to introduce "Don Henrique Gonzalez 
 and the Duke of C "
 
 36 CONCHITA. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding graciously consented, and the dis- 
 tinguished looking foreigners soon joined the group 
 of admirers already gathered about her girls. 
 
 The good lady had a rather hard time of it, rack- 
 ing her poor brain for polite French sentences to 
 repeat to the Spaniard. As neither could speak the 
 other's language, and she had sadly neglected her 
 French, conversation was limited. 
 
 So, it was a positive relief, when the Don, turn- 
 ing to Conchita, asked glibly in Spanish, to favor 
 him for the next waltz. 
 
 "Ah, Senorita!" he exclaims, after the first 
 round of the slow, dreamy waltz, " This is truly like 
 heaven. I feel that my feet are wings, and 1 am 
 floating through paradise, with an angel !" 
 
 "Really, Senor," she returns, blushing hotly at 
 his highflown compliment, "you must not express 
 yourself so extravagantly it is not customary in 
 America." 
 
 " But, Senorita, I speak from the heart ! And, 
 better still the angel is Spanish and speaks my 
 own language." 
 
 Though annoyed by his many flatteries, she gives 
 a sigh of regret as the last strain dies away, for his 
 dancing is the very poetry of motion. 
 
 "Ah, the Senorita sighs! she is tired?" offering 
 his arm. 
 
 "No, not tired, only regretting that delightful 
 waltz was ended. You dance beautifully Senior." 
 
 "Then, most adorable Senorita may I beg the 
 honor of another?" 
 
 She looks over her tablets, and allows him the 
 joy of writing his long name opposite a waltz near 
 the end of the programme.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 37 
 
 Harry McAlister revenges himself on Viva by 
 paying marked attention to Claudia Saunders, 
 Viva's "pet horror." 
 
 Viva and her Duke find themselves opposite this 
 devoted couple on more than one occasion, and she 
 has an uncomfortable idea that they are not acci- 
 dentally placed. 
 
 Seeing him so absorbed in his partner, she flirts 
 outrageously with the Englishman, gives him a rose 
 from her hair, and, when certain Harry is looking, 
 pins it in his buttonhole, with many little airs and 
 graces. 
 
 Poor Harry is terribly provoked but vows he will 
 make no sign. 
 
 " She's as miserable as you are," whispers 'Chita, 
 as their hands meet in the "grand chain," but he 
 doubted. 
 
 "Haven't we had a charming evening?" says 
 Viva, as they retire to their rooms. " The Duke was 
 delightful and so attentive but I'm tired to death. 
 Good-night." 
 
 " There's a gentleman in your parlor, Miss," said 
 a servant, as, late next afternoon, Viva and 'Chita 
 returned from the beach. 
 
 "Why, "it must be Uncle Earnest!" exclaimed 
 Viva, "though it is hardly time for him yet. Did 
 he say he was expected ?" 
 
 "Yes, Miss, he said you were looking for him." 
 
 " Oh well, I know it is he ; " and away she ran to 
 their private parlor. 
 
 The contrast between the bright sunlight, and 
 the heavily curtained room was so great, that she 
 could hardly see the occupant, but feeling so sure it 
 was her Uncle, she threw herself into his arms, ex- 
 claiming, with a good hearty kiss, " I'm so awfully,
 
 38 CONCHITA. 
 
 awfully glad to see you again, you dear old dar- 
 ling!" 
 
 " And I am ' so awfully, awfully' obliged for your 
 gracious reception, you dear little darling ! " answers 
 the visitor, holding her close, and taking another 
 kiss. 
 
 "Harry McAlister!' withdrawing herself from 
 his arms, and trying to wither him with scorn. 
 " You ought to be ashamed of yourself ! " 
 
 " I'm not, though," he answers in a satisfied tone. 
 
 "What do you mean, sir, by deceiving me so 
 basely ? Wretched creature, I believe I hate you ! 
 Why did you pretend to be Uncle Earnest ?" 
 
 "My dear girl, why will you storm at me? I 
 assure you, I had no idea of deceiving you ; I simply 
 came around to smooth over our last quarrel, and 
 told the servant you were expecting me, for you 
 have been all day have you not ?" 
 
 " I certainly expected you to call and apologize for 
 your rudeness. I," in a dignified tone, " never 
 quarrel." 
 
 " All right," he laughs, good-naturedly, "/was a 
 horrid bear, and humbly beg pardon, and you were 
 the same sweet little witch you always are. Is that 
 slice of ' humble pie ' sufficiently large to appease 
 your just indignation ? I am desperate will say 
 anything you command." 
 
 "Well," relenting -slowly, "if I excuse you this 
 time, you must promise never never again to allude 
 to my selling myself. For, you must know, I am 
 above price." 
 
 " 'And ntfore to be desired than gold, yea, than 
 much fine gold.' But, are you really expecting 
 your Uncle ? " 
 
 "Of course. You don't think I invented it on the
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 3 ( J 
 
 spur of the moment, do you just to excuse my own 
 awkward position. Say, do you ? " anxiously. 
 
 "Well, I don't know," teasingly, " I am aware 
 that you possess great inventive genius ; and, too, 
 the ' position' was to me so pleasant, that I could 
 think of nothing else." 
 
 " Now, sir, you can just hush ! If you don't be- 
 have properly, I shall leave you to your own reflec- 
 tions." 
 
 They chat pleasantly for a half hour or more, 
 when, suddenly, Mr. Greyson enters. 
 
 " Oh Uncle ! " cries Viva, embracing him warmly. 
 " Have you just come, or have you seen Mama and 
 'Chita?" 
 
 " Just arrived," he answers. " Have seen no one 
 but yourself. Glad to see you Harry ; " shaking 
 hands, " thought you were booked for the moun- 
 tains." 
 
 "Excuse me," says Viva, "I must dress for 
 dinner." 
 
 " You dine at six ?" asked her uncle. "Then run 
 along, you have just ten minutes grace." 
 
 Harry says good-bye, and Mr. Greyson, making a 
 hasty toilet, returns to the parlor just as his sister, 
 resplendent in lavender silk and diamonds accom- 
 panied by Conchita, daintily robed in white, enters 
 the room. 
 
 The elder lady offers her cheek to be kissed, but 
 carefully holds back her draperies, warning him not 
 to crush her lace. 
 
 " You can't think how glad I am to see you," says 
 'Chita, offering her hand. 
 
 " And is that your way of showing it ? As you 
 seem to have forgotten your Mexican salutation, I 
 must refresh your memory," and, taking her face
 
 40 CONCHITA. 
 
 between his hands, he kisses first one. then the 
 other rosy cheek. 
 
 " Brother !" cries Mrs. Paulding, "I am astounded! 
 such conduct is remarkably undignified, to say the 
 least, for one of your age and position. And, Con- 
 chita, I am shocked that you allow any man such 
 liberties. Young ladies should never permit such 
 freedom!" 
 
 " What should young ladies never permit ? " asks 
 Viva, who enters just in time to prevent an alterca- 
 tion, ' ' I suppose you have been picking flaws, as 
 usual, Mama for Uncle Earnest looks like black 
 thunder, and poor 'Chita wears a mournful expres- 
 sion as only you can produce." 
 
 " I never like to see propriety outraged but of 
 course, I am always the party at fault," assuming 
 an aggrieved expression. 
 
 "Yes," answers her daughter, sweetly, "You 
 generally are. But do come to dinner, the gong 
 sounded ages ago, and I've always heard that a 
 good meal was a wonderful help to one's good 
 temper." 
 
 " No impertinence, Miss," says her enraged parent, 
 marching stiffly from the room. 
 
 "And now," says Mr. Greyson, as, later in the 
 evening, Conchita and he promenade the long 
 piazza, " I at last have an opportunity to tell you 
 the object of my visit. I must be in New Orleans 
 on the twenty-fifth, and you, if you like, may 
 accompany me, spend a few weeks with your Aunt 
 in Mexico, and return with me in September. Do 
 you like the plan ?" 
 
 "Yes, very much !" she exclaims. 
 
 " I see you do," he returns with a smile.
 
 A. MEXICAN ROMANCE. 41 
 
 " Auntie is so anxious to have me visit her ; she 
 urges it in all her letters." 
 
 "And Alfonso? Does he not urge it?" closely 
 scanning her face. 
 
 "Yes;" she answers without embarrassment, 
 "but he speaks of coming to see me, while Auntie 
 I know, will never leave Mexico." 
 
 " You are very fond of your cousin, are you not?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. We have been devoted ever since we 
 played at housekeeping, long ago in ' childhood's 
 happy hour." 
 
 "Ah! that is just the point; now, that you are 
 no longer children, do you expect to 'play at house- 
 keeping in reality ?" 
 
 "Oh, no," blushing hotly, "I never think of 
 'Fonso in that way." 
 
 "But he does of you. Only last week I received 
 a long letter in which he begs my influence in 
 securing your consent to an early marriage. 
 
 Now, that your mourning is over, he thinks 
 you should pay more attention to his wishes. So, 
 now, my pet, "softly pressing the slender fingers 
 upon his arm, "will you remain in Mexico with 
 your young lover, or return home with your old 
 guardian ?" 
 
 " Return with you, of course. But, have you 
 heard any Mexican news political news, I mean ?" 
 
 "Yes, it is reported that France will withdraw 
 her troops some time during the summer. Your 
 cousin, however, thinks it untrue. 'Twould be cer- 
 tain death to the empire, if not to the Emperor" 
 
 " But why should France desert Maximilian ?" 
 
 "Napoleon, I think, is a little afraid of the United 
 States. Our country, you know, has always been 
 suspicious of French influence or, I might say
 
 42 CONCHITA. 
 
 power, in Mexico ; though, two years ago, when 
 Maximilian became Emperor, we were too busily 
 engaged in our own unpleasantness to interfere. 
 
 I have heard, through a friend in power at Wash- 
 ington, that a lengthy diplomatic correspondence 
 has been carried on with France regarding the mat- 
 ter, which has just terminated in Napoleon's prom- 
 ise to withdraw the troops. 
 
 Deprived of French aid, Maximilian will scarcely 
 be so mad as to remain " 
 
 "Ah, Sinorita," interrupts the Don," what happi- 
 to find you once more ! I was miserable ! in de- 
 spair ! of the three waltzes you promised, I have 
 lost two but I searched everywhere and could find 
 you not ! Come, hear you not the music ? We will 
 float to its heavenly strains !" 
 
 "First, let me present my guardian Mr. Grey- 
 son, Don Henrique Gonzalez." 
 
 With a low bow to Mr. Greyson, the Don hurried 
 her away to fulfil her engagement. 
 
 Mrs. Paulding made numerous objections to 
 'Chita's Mexican visit stormed, scolded, persuaded 
 but all in vain. 
 
 " You are becoming more and more like Earnest ;" 
 she said, "stubbornness is no name for your con- 
 duct. A mule is docile compared with you !" 
 
 "Mrs. Paulding," returns 'Chita indignantly, 
 '' why do you treat me so ? I am never unmindful 
 of your feelings." 
 
 "Don't speak to me of feelings, you artful girl! 
 Of course it is not hurtful to my feelings to stand by 
 and see my poor brother inveigled into everytliittfj, 
 no matter how unreasonable or even reckless that 
 enters your silly brain. Oh, no ! you have never
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 43 
 
 annoyed me but I wash my hands of it, you may 
 go where and with whom you please I shall not 
 attempt to prevent it. But, you will remember my 
 warning when you find yourself hopelessly mixed 
 in political intrigues." 
 
 "My stay in Mexico will scarcely permit of that. 
 I go merely to visit relatives." 
 
 "Ah yes ! and one of them is, I believe, devoted 
 to the Emperor." 
 
 "Yes, my cousin is much attached to His 
 Majesty." 
 
 " And it's my opinion that your Emperor, cousin 
 and entire Catholic party will come to grief. Self- 
 will, I am thankful to say, is always punished; 
 Earnest will probably die of yellow fever, and you, 
 perhaps, meet your death in some .Mexican riot. 
 But, have your own way, by all means, I haven't a 
 word to say," with which comforting remark she 
 sweeps angrily from the room. 
 
 "Conchita! Conchita!" calls Viva, "have you 
 finished your battle ? Yes, I see she got the best of 
 it. Come. Uncle and Harry are waiting hurry or 
 she'll swoop down on us. Now, do, child, try to 
 look a little more cheerful your look says plainly, 
 ' the burden laid upon me, is greater than I can 
 bear.' "
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 TWO weeks later, we find Conchita and her 
 guardian cosily established at the St. Charles 
 Hotel, New Orleans. She will remain only a few 
 days in the Crescent City, then continue her journey 
 alone, remaining with Donna Castro till called for. 
 
 'Twas now about noon. Mr. Greyson bade her 
 good-bye immediately after breakfast, but promised 
 to devote himself to her pleasure after dinner. 
 
 As she sits at her window, idly watching the ever 
 changing crowd below, she is disturbed by a rap. 
 On permission, a servant enters, saying : 
 
 "Bar's a lady, mum, what wants to see you, an' 
 axed to be brung ter your comprivate repartment." 
 
 " A lady to see me ?" said 'Chita, " surely you are 
 mistaken I have no acquaintances here.' 
 
 "You see mum, she ax fur Massa Greyson, an' I 
 tell her he done lef de house. Den she say, ' de 
 young lady, I see her ! ' ' 
 
 "Very well, you may show her up. I wonder," 
 she says to herself, " who it can be ? " 
 
 She has not long to wait, for in a few minutes the 
 door is thrown open, and in walks a handsome 
 showily dressed woman of thirty years. She is pos- 
 sessed of a small, well-proportioned figure, brilliant 
 brunette complexion, full red lips and fine black 
 eyes, through which she regards 'Chita insolently a
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 45 
 
 few minutes, then coolly seats herself in the most 
 comfortable chair, exclaiming airily : 
 
 " So, you are his latest darling? Mon Dieu! but 
 my lord has excellent taste. And how long, my 
 pretty one, have you been in favor ? " 
 
 "Pray explain yourself, madam," says 'Chita, 
 still standing, her face filled with indignant surprise, 
 " I am utterly at a loss to account for this visit." 
 
 " Chut! don't pretend ignorance !'' 
 
 "And would prefer" she continues calmly, "your 
 calling when my guardian is at home." 
 
 "Your guardian? ha! ha! No doubt, he would 
 be delighted to see me," she speaks with a strong 
 accent, and is decidedly French. " Come now, did 
 you never hear him of me speak ? Is it so ?" 
 
 "I can not tell, as you have not given your 
 name." 
 
 "My name? Ah, yes, quite thoughtless, to be 
 sure. Is it possible, my sweet innocent, that you 
 have never heard your guardian (?) speak of his 
 dearly loved wife better known, perhaps, as 
 Blanchette ?" 
 
 " No madame, he has never mentioned the name, 
 though I have often seen it in press," replies our 
 heroine coldly. 
 
 "I see," rousing herself from the lazy attitude 
 she at first assumed, " you insolent creature ! you 
 think me not his wife ? Ask him, my lovely one, 
 when next you meet, and watch haw the dear fel- 
 low swallows the little pill. Ha ! ha ! what pleasure 
 would Blanchette take in seeing it choke him !" 
 
 " Madame, I know nothing of your affairs, and 
 wish to remain in ignorance of them, in short, feel 
 no interest on the subject. Shall I ring for a ser- 
 vant to attend von out ?"
 
 46 CONCHITA. 
 
 " Chut ! you feel no interest ? you show me the 
 door ? You pretend to care not for him that was 
 my husband ? Mon Dieu ! you cannot deceive me ! 
 Revenge it was that brought me here ! Did I not 
 the tenter glances see, that last night between you 
 passed? Little thought he Blanchette's eyes wero 
 on him. And you, sweet innocent, would pretend 
 you love him not ? Chut ! Blanchette is no fool ! 
 But I know by the light of his eyes, you he adores I 
 What care I if he suffer? did he not me scorn?" 
 
 "Really, Madame, this is quite unnecessary. If 
 sufficiently interested, I could easily procure infor- 
 mation from my guardian." 
 
 " Ah ! ha ! ha ! you would act the piece of white 
 marble ? will you, my sweet ? I tell you I am his 
 wife ! Him you shall never marry ! Never! Never!" 
 
 "Madame, you force me to ring," says 'Chita, 
 pulling desperately at the bell rope. 
 
 " See this lady to the street door," she says to the 
 servant who answers her ring. 
 
 "This, he will know," says the woman, tossing a 
 photo on the table. 
 
 "Adieu, sweet one, we'll meet again some day." 
 
 Poor Conchita is much disturbed by this visit. 
 Up and down her rooin she walks, vainly trying to 
 compose her thoughts. 
 
 "Why," she asks, "should I become so agitated 
 by this news ? Why should I care that my guardian 
 is married and to such a woman ? And that horri- 
 ble suspicion, could it be true that he loved me ? 
 Or rather, can it be true that he ever loved her ? 
 Shall I tell him of the visit, or try to forget 
 Blanchette's existence ? Yes, I had better tell him 
 for of course he can explain everything."
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 47 
 
 With this comforting thought she begins once 
 more her old occupation ; but, try as she would, she 
 could not rid herself of the fancy that the woman's 
 story was true. But why did she care? That 
 thought worried her more than anyother. 
 
 " Well, Conchita," said her guardian, as he leans 
 back in his luxurious, easy chair, "how have you 
 spent the day? Getting into mischief?" 
 
 "I've not enjoyed it very much, but don't let us 
 talk of troubles till you have rested." 
 
 "We shall do nothing of the kind," he answers 
 decidedly. "Draw your chair nearer, so that I can 
 see your face ; there, that is better. Now, tell me 
 what has worried you ?" 
 
 "Well," reluctantly, "if you will have it, a 
 woman came here this morning asking for you; 
 and, finding you absent, insisted on seeing me. 
 She called herself Blanchette, and claimed to be 
 your wife. After trying every means to get rid of 
 her, I had finally to order a servant to show her 
 out. Now, can you explain ? Do you know her 
 but here is her photograph. She insisted that you 
 would recognize it." 
 
 Mr. Greyson could scarcely control his passion, 
 he was perfectly white with rage. 
 
 "Yes,' 1 he replied, glancing at the picture, "I 
 know her only too well. Would to God I had never 
 seen her face. Conchita, that woman has been my 
 curse. Ten years ago, I was fool enough to marry 
 her; but found, after a few weeks' happiness, how 
 utterly unworthy she was of any good man's love. 
 1 came home one day, to find that she had forfeited 
 the very name of wife; and, since that hour, have 
 never seen her."
 
 48 CONCAITA. 
 
 " My poor, dear guardian, you have suffered ! 
 How I hate myself for telling you of that horrible 
 visit," exclaimed 'Chita, her eyes and voice full of 
 sympathy. 
 
 " That, undoubtedly, was her object in asking for 
 you she felt sure you would tell me everything. 
 But, how did she know we were here ?" 
 
 " She saw us last night at the theatre ; and, I 
 suppose, had us followed." 
 
 " You cannot know how I regret your being so 
 annoyed by my private affairs. But, perhaps, 'tis 
 better you should know how unfortunate a man 
 your guardian is 'twill make you forget, when he. 
 is cross and cranky. Will it not dear child ?" 
 
 "You are never cross to me," she says gently, 
 " and I shall love you all the more, since I know of 
 the heavy burden you bear so nobly. Excuse me, 
 please, I have a bad headache, so will retire. Good- 
 night." 
 
 She withdraws, leaving him to his own unhappy 
 thoughts.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A WEEK later Conchita arrived safely at her 
 Aunt's summer home. It is a large, roomy, 
 white adobe building, charmingly situated in the 
 Valley of Tenochtitlan, not far from the City of 
 Mexico. 
 
 The good Senora, though completely surprised, 
 was quite overcome by joy; for Conchita had not 
 written of her intended visit. 
 
 "Why Auntie," she exclaims, after being almost 
 smothered in kisses, " where is Alfonso ? Still in 
 the city ? " . 
 
 " Yes, my child, I have had but little of his com- 
 pany lately. Poor boy ! How he will grieve at not 
 being first to greet you." 
 
 " That would certainly be very foolish !" she 
 laughs. "What -keeps him so long ? Not the gay 
 court, I hope." 
 
 " Certainly not," returns his mother proudly. 
 "Military duty, alone, detains him; his General 
 never grants him a long absence. Besides, Alfonso 
 is so devoted to His Majesty that he keeps a con- 
 stant watch for anything even approaching trea- 
 son." 
 
 "I know," returns 'Chita, "that treachery is 
 feared ; for the Emperor has many enemies. You
 
 50 CONCHITA. 
 
 have heard that France will withdraw her troops ?" 
 
 "Yes, but could scarcely believe it," sighs the 
 Senora. 
 
 " My guardian thinks it madness for Maximilian 
 to remain if deserted by France." 
 
 "But our holy Mother, the Church, supports him; 
 she has not only given her brave sons, Miramon 
 and Mejia, but offered large loans of money. But 
 the poor Empress how my heart aches for her ! she 
 is almost distracted with anxiety for her husband." 
 
 "Is she still with His Majesty? " 
 
 "Oh, no! she is in Europe, imploring aid for her 
 husband. Think of that beautiful young creature 
 a born princess, being driven to such extremity !" 
 
 The Senora, like most of her nation, is much 
 given to gestures; her manner is so highly dra- 
 matic, that one entirely ignorant of Spanish, could 
 easily understand the drift of her remarks. 
 
 In the midst of a long description of Maximilian's 
 mild, enlightened policy, Carlotta's beauty and 
 goodness, the trying political condition of their fair 
 country, they are disturbed by loud cries of " Hur- 
 rah for the Emperor ! Down with Juarez ! Away 
 with him !" 
 
 'Chita soon found these sounds of approval and 
 disapproval came only from a highly patriotic par- 
 rot, perched on the flower stand. 
 
 "Why, Auntie," she asks, much amused, "have 
 you even talked politics to this poor creature ?" 
 
 "Oh, no!" she answered, that's 'Fonso's pet, 
 named for you, and he delights in making her 
 patriotic. What became of your Poll ? Surely you 
 bad not the heart to leave her." 
 
 " No. The poor girl died only a few months after 
 we left you. I suppose the confinement was too
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 51 
 
 great then the poor thing missed our bright, 
 sunny climate and open air life more, even, than 
 myself." 
 
 The end of the week brought Alfonso, on a brief 
 visit. 
 
 His mother had dispatched a messenger with 
 news of Conchita's arrival, but he was unable, till 
 now, to obtain leave. 
 
 Our heroine certainly looked lovely as she sat in 
 the open court, busily engaged in drawing the 
 threads for her- Spanish lace-work. Her full white 
 dress, and dainty laces, become her greatly. So 
 thinks her cousin, as he unseen, watches her nim- 
 ble lingers. 
 
 "So you have answered our prayers at last!" he 
 exclaims, taking both hands, and kissing each 
 glowing cheek. 
 
 'At last/' she answers. "But stand up again, 
 'Fonso," as he sits beside her, "I haven't admired 
 you or your uniform sufficiently." 
 
 " I hope," he says, as he strokes his moustache, 
 " you feel proud of your handsome cousin ?" 
 
 " Yes, I believe I do or, rather, I will, if he is 
 really as nice as he looks !" she returns merrily. 
 
 The Senora was, of course, glad to see her son, 
 and delighted that the cousins enjoyed themselves 
 together. 
 
 "Surely," she says, with a wise shake of her 
 head, "they will love and marry. What a hand- 
 some couple they would make, walking up the aisle 
 of our grand Cathedral ! he in his uniform, she in 
 spotless satin and orange blossoms ! Ah, me ! how 
 it brings back my own young days, when his dear 
 father sang sweet love songs under my window." 
 And the good lady sighed over the past romance of
 
 52 CONCHITA. 
 
 her delightful, though to us, peculiar Mexican 
 courtship. The tender glances, watchful jealousy, 
 stolen interviews, when the household enjoyed the 
 universal ~siesta; passionate love letters, let down, 
 and drawn up through her window; emblematic 
 flowers, sent in the same way ; and those exquisite 
 love songs which spoke to the very soul ! 
 
 This, of course preceded the regular engagement, 
 which meant set visits in the Sola, where the lovers 
 are never left alone, but are constantly attended by 
 a watchful duenna. 
 
 Conchita treated Alfonso with frank, cousinly 
 affection, but told him plainly, when he urged a 
 closer relation, that she thought it impossible to re- 
 turn his passion. 
 
 " Love me just a little, 'Chita darling !" he pleads. 
 " I am sure you cared for me before you left us. 
 What has changed you?" 
 
 " Now Fonso," she begs, " be a good boy, and for- 
 get all this. Seriously, I cannot love you in that 
 way." 
 
 " Forget ? When I've loved you all your life ? 
 'Chita, you must love me did you not promise, long 
 ago, to be my little wife ? " 
 
 "Ah, I was then only a tiny child ! Would you 
 marry me, knowing I could not love ?" 
 
 " A hungry man takes even crumbs when denied 
 the loaf !" he answers passionately. 
 
 'Cousin," she says, gravely, "you place me in a 
 most unpleasant position. Why persist in this mat- 
 ter ? You will only drive me back to the United 
 States." 
 
 "Conchita you are cruel," he cries desperately. 
 "You know I adore you! How miserable I am 
 away from you !"
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 53 
 
 "Come, "she says, "let us make a compact. 1 
 will treat you with sisterly affection provided you 
 never allude to this subject ; otherwise, you can ex- 
 pect only coldness. Should my feelings change, 
 no false modesty shall prevent my telling. Now 
 are you satisfied ?" 
 
 " I suppose I must be, for your conditions are fair 
 and open," his tone is resigned, but he thinks 
 " While there's life, there's hope." 
 
 Alfonso, before leaving, persuades his mother to 
 come for a while to the city. She, thinking the 
 idea would further her matrimonial plans, readily 
 consented.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE City of Mexico presents, to Conchita,' a 
 charming spectacle, as she stands, viewing it 
 from the house-top. 
 
 They arrived only a half hour ago, and she, insist- 
 ing she is not at all tired, begs Fonso to take her 
 around the city. 
 
 Her aunt, in a shocked tone, reminds her that it is 
 scandalous for young people to be seen abroad un- 
 attended by an elderly married woman, so, with a 
 mental reservation on Mexican etiquette, she con- 
 tents herself with the house-top. 
 
 Their hotel is very near the grand square, towards 
 which the principal streets converge, and on which 
 are situated the famous old cathedral, palace of the 
 Cortez, and other important buildings. 
 
 Surrounded on all sides by lofty mountains, with 
 her chain of blue lakes in the distance, Mexico oc- 
 cupies the same ground on which, formerly, stood 
 the ancient Aztec city, Tenochtitlan. 
 
 " How grandly beautiful !" exclaims Conchita, 
 feasting her eyes on the exquisite panorama, " you 
 say this is the Plaza Mayor, which is considered one 
 of the finest in America ?
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 55 
 
 "Yes," answers her cousin, "and right over there 
 is the Cathedral, built on the site of the ancient 
 Teocalli. We'll go there to-morrow, if mother can 
 accompany us, and see the famous calendar stone." 
 
 " What is that long, straight road over there ?" 
 
 " Oh, that's the Calzada, which leads to Chalco ; 
 it's as old as the Spanish conquest. You can see it 
 is built on an embankment, and by the wayside, is 
 the celebrated shrine of our Lady of Guadaloupe, cut 
 into a curiously shaped rock. Those scattering 
 houses are the Villa de Gaudaloupe, the resting 
 place of many pilgrims." 
 
 " I need not ask if that lofty hill, crowned with 
 its magnificent palace, is Chapultepec. How grandly 
 it towers above this fertile plain !" 
 
 " Ah!" he cries, "look on the Boulevard Emperiale, 
 there goes His Majesty's coach !" 
 
 She looks and beholds one of the finest coaches 
 in the world. It is crimson and gold every avail- 
 able place being covered by the royal coat of arms, 
 wrought in gold. Each corner is finished with a 
 golden cherub, and the vehicle is drawn by eight 
 milk-white horses. 
 
 " How gorgeous !" she exclaims. 
 
 "Yes," he continues, " 'twas presented to the Em- 
 press by Napoleon. The interior is of heavy white 
 silk, with fringes, cords, and tassels to match. Some 
 days they drive black horses, but I admire the white 
 ones more." 
 
 "So do I but what fine building is that?" 
 
 " The palace of Buena Vista Marshal Bazine's 
 residence." 
 
 "Do you know," looking into the plaza below, " I 
 find the people much more interesting than architec- 
 ture. Just look at that poor woman, carrying three
 
 56 CONCHITA. 
 
 babies in her rebozo and what solemn little faces 
 they have ! Do they ever laugh or cry, I wonder ? 
 That group, over there, dining on the ground, would 
 furnish a rare study for an artist. Observe their 
 careless, easy attitudes, their polite consideration 
 of each other, though we know they are as hungry 
 as dogs." 
 
 "Oh," he returns, carelessly, "that is the very 
 lowest type. We have nothing in common." 
 
 " I don't care," she answers, " it is also the pictur- 
 esque type. What could be more pathetic than that 
 old crone, in the Archades, selling lottery tickets !. 
 Did you hear her say ' buy one, the blessed Virgin 
 will bring you the money ?' " 
 
 "Yes," he says, "that is just what keeps them so 
 degradingly poor. They have no homes are born, 
 live and die on the streets." 
 
 "You are unjust!" she exclaims scornfully. 
 "How can you expect poor wretches like them, 
 with no education or refinement, to resist tempta- 
 tion, when the highest in the land uphold the 
 accursed lottery ? I tell you, 'Fonso, it is a dark 
 blot on our fair country, and she will never prosper 
 till this terrible evil is removed." 
 
 "Why, Conchita," he answers in surprise, "lot- 
 teries are countenanced by both church and State. 
 They do no harm when we can afford the risk." 
 
 " We must agree to differ," she says, unconvinced 
 by his argument. "But just look at that beautiful 
 girl making tortillas I have quite outgrown my 
 taste for them." 
 
 "Yes," he laughs, "you are not at all Mexican 
 in your ways don't even smoke cigarettes." 
 
 "You remember," with a smile, "how Papa
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 57 
 
 scolded you for trying to teach me ? I see even the 
 babies smoke here." 
 
 "See!" he exlaims, "There goes a train of bur- 
 rors loaded with pulque. You remember them?" 
 
 "Yes, so many used to pass our house. Good 
 patient creatures they are, to carry such heavy 
 loads but, really, we live centuries behind the 
 times." 
 
 "You don't mean," in much amaze, "that you 
 prefer New York to Mexico." 
 
 " In many respects, yes. There we have so much 
 more liberty. I must confess, that, since my visit 
 to the United States I find many errors in our own 
 social system. There I might go any where, alone, 
 or attended by you without exciting remark, while 
 here, it is so different 
 
 There a woman can actually make a respectable 
 living, here, they can only marry. You give us 
 absolutely no freedom till then." 
 
 "Yes," he acknowledges, "it is a little hard on 
 you girls but that is because we wish to shield you 
 from evil." 
 
 Next day, accompanied by his mother, they take 
 a pleasant drive around the city. Going first to the 
 Cathedral, built on the ruins of an ancient temple, 
 dedicated to the god Mixitli they find the Kellenda, 
 a large, circular stone, beautifully carved with hier- 
 oglyphics, by which the Aztecs represented the 
 motion of the earth around the sun, dividing the 
 year about as we do or rather, making the solar 
 year equal to our own. 
 
 They visit the Academy of fine Arts, and among 
 many curious and historic relics, see the feather 
 shield of Montezuma. This had been sent by Cortez 
 to the Emperor Charles the Fifth and by him pre-
 
 58 CONCHITA. 
 
 sented to the museum at Vienna, where it remained 
 till Maximilian restored it to Mexico. Idols of all 
 shapes and sizes, exquisite pottery and the famous 
 sacrificial stone with its wonderful carving, attract- 
 ed their attention. Conchita could not believe that 
 the latter had ever been intended for so horrible a 
 purpose for the sculptured images of the sun, 
 moon, and groups of men are so finely wrought, re- 
 quiring such patient, delicate skill, that 'twould be 
 simple folly to drench them with the blood of 
 victims. 
 
 "That rude hole," she says, "marring it's top, 
 was certainly cut by our Spanish ancestors in carry- 
 ing out some of their own unhallowed schemes. 
 Come, let us look for the picture writings." 
 
 The manuscripts were mostly of maguey plant, the 
 colors bright and indelible. 
 
 Few of these remain, for the early Spaniards 
 recklessly destroyed everything they deemed of 
 V~alue to the conquered Aztecs. 
 
 'Chita gazes long and earnestly at the celebrated 
 fifty foot maguey paper which contains the entire 
 history of Mexico. It tells how the Aztecs, centu- 
 ries ago, left an island, in the north containing a 
 temple, and came to Mexico, building the city. All 
 important events are recorded. The advance of the 
 Spaniards, and the battle of Noche Triste are faith- 
 fully portrayed. 
 
 "That island in the north, "says 'Chita, "cer- 
 tainly points to the Atlantis theory." 
 
 "No use to theorize," says 'Fonso, "Better come 
 into the courtyard and look at those lovely flowers. 
 It's hot in here." 
 
 They finish the day with an evening stroll on the
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 59 
 
 Alemada or public walk, and 'Chita is delighted, on 
 their return, to find the following letter : 
 
 " New York, Sept 5, 1866. 
 
 MY DEAREST LITTLE PET : If both Uncle Earnest 
 and yourself were not such ' highly proper ' people, 
 I should certainly think you had run away for good 
 for we have not heard a single word from, either of 
 you. What's the matter? 
 
 Things go on about as usual, except that I have a 
 right brand new adorer the oddest, queerest creat- 
 ure you ever saw but, as my dear mother is con- 
 stantly informing me, 'has piles of money.' My 
 lady, you must know, has set her heart on my en- 
 trapping the poor innocent, and entre nous, I have 
 set my head against it. 
 
 Our two noblemen deserted us ages ago. The 
 Spaniard rolled his black eyes in the most enchant- 
 ing manner when he asked your address, making 
 numerous polite speeches, in such broken English, 
 however, that I couldn't be certain whether he was 
 complimenting me or you. 
 
 The Duke, I fear, was disenchanted by my reck- 
 less use of slang; for he has departed without 
 ' screwing his courage ' to the interrogation point ! 
 Oh., that I had cut out my troublesome tongue and 
 cast it from me ! for alas ! such opportunities come 
 only once in a lifetime. 
 
 But 'twas ever thus from childhood's hour. 
 Then, he was so handsome, and the title I must 
 confess that would have '' fetched ' me quicker than 
 anything -else. 
 
 Entre nous, my love, Harry and 1 are engaged ; 
 but as yet it's a dead secret. Are you not surprised? 
 I am, but find it quite delightful 
 
 Mamma suspects nothing, for we are very formal 
 before her and all gossiping friends. 
 
 She, you know, wants me to marry hard cash, so, 
 of course, would object seriously to Harry, who, 
 you know, is by no means a millionaire. 
 
 I shall say nothing to her ladyship till we talk 
 Uncle Earnest over, then he'll do the fighting, not T.
 
 60 CONCHITA. 
 
 Now, dear child, don't fall in love with your 
 handsome cousin and desert us entirely. 
 
 Think how miserable I should be without you, 
 to say nothing of my sweet, sweet parent's sorrow 
 at having only one girl to scold. 
 
 With a kiss for your dear, good Aunt, and a hun- 
 dred for yourself, I am, as ever, VIVA." 
 
 Conchita, of course, had long since seen the love 
 between her two young friends ; and now contem- 
 plated with wicked pleasure, the prospect of a do- 
 mestic storm. For she knew one would follow Mrs. 
 Paulding's discovery of the engagement.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 says the Senora one morning, 
 (i His Majesty receives this evening, and we 
 are expected to pay our respects. Have you a suita- 
 ble costume ?" 
 
 "Well, really," returns 'Chita, "I don't know 
 what would constitute a ' suitable costume/ so sup- 
 pose you look over my things ? I may have some- 
 thing that will do." 
 
 After a lengthy examination, her aunt decides 
 on a pink silk, elaborately trimmed in black lace, a 
 velvet bodice and black lace mantilla the very cos- 
 tume in which 'Chita had once personated " a Span- 
 ish lady." 
 
 And now, as they sit in their carriage, en route for 
 the palace, I will give the reader a bit of history. 
 
 Maximilian, Archduke of Austria, on establish- 
 ing the Empire in Mexico, sought, by every means 
 in his power to render this already beautiful valley 
 more attractive. 
 
 The city had, unfortunately, been rebuilt on the 
 ancient Aztec site, the lowest and most unhealthy 
 in the whole surrounding country. 
 
 Concluding, wisely, to draw the town to a better
 
 62 CONCHITA. 
 
 locality, he selected Cliapultepec as his royal abode, 
 and built many lovely drives, all leading to the 
 palace. 
 
 The handsomest of these, also the most direct 
 from the city, is the Boulevard Emperiale, three 
 thousand seven hundred and fifty feet long, by one 
 hundred and seventy wide. The east side is planted 
 with two rows of trees, one edging the drive, the 
 other, the walk, which is far wider than some 
 streets 
 
 It is also contains six circular plots, which, the 
 Emperor intends, shall contain statues. 
 
 On each side of this beautiful paseo, are grand 
 old moss-covered acqueducts ; one leading to the 
 castle, the other going higher up the mountain. 
 
 This noble avenue, terminates with the castle, 
 which completely covers the rocky "Hill of the 
 Grass-hopper." 
 
 Now they pass the iron gate, guarded by its 
 many sentinels, and drive through those grand, 
 moss-draped cypresses, that centuries ago sheltered 
 the peaceful Montezuma. Here, the sun never pene- 
 trates ; and the mystic, shadowy twilight is won- 
 drously productive of weird, fantastic musings con- 
 cerning the countless generation, who, ages ago, 
 roamed here at will. 
 
 A silver lake, bordered with lilies of the Nile, nes- 
 .tles, like a mirror in the green sward. 
 
 Playing fountains and brilliant tropical flowers 
 add beauty to the scene, while birds of rare plumage 
 flit here and there, mingling their songs with the 
 melodies of falling water. 
 
 Our heroine feels no embarrassment as they enter 
 the brilliantly lighted apartment, and advanced to 
 greet the Emperor.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 63 
 
 Maximilian, who is famed throughout Europe for 
 his handsome person, scholarly attainments and 
 courtesy of manner, receives them with marked 
 graciousness. 
 
 He is especially kind to Conchita, and, knowing 
 she is just from the States, turns to the distinguished 
 looking lady on his right, and says : 
 
 "Princess, this young lady, I know, would enjoy 
 talking America with you." 
 
 Acting on this hint, Princess Josef a de Yturbide, 
 talks in her most charming manner to the young 
 stranger. 
 
 This remarkable woman was the only daughter of 
 the Emperor Yturbide. After her father's execu- 
 tion, the family moved to Philadelphia, and the 
 princess was educated at Georgetown's convent. 
 
 Maximilian restored the titles to the family, and 
 on adopting Augustine Yturbide, grandson of the 
 late Emperor, appointed Princess Josefa guardian to 
 the young "Prince Imperial." 
 
 She stands high at court, for, the Emperor, find- 
 ing her possessed of wonderful executive abilities, 
 consults her on all important occasions. 
 
 The Princess introduces her to Princess Salm-salm, 
 an American lady, whose husband is Prussian, and 
 they are discussing American towns, manners, poli- 
 tics, etc., when Alfonso, joining the circle, begs to 
 show 'Chita the famous garden of Chapultepec. 
 
 They mount a magnificent stairway of imported 
 Italian marble, and soon reach the house-top. 
 
 Here they find the beautiful garden filled with 
 handsome trees, rare plants and shrubs, sprinkled 
 by clear, sparkling fountains. Here and there, is a 
 graceful marble statue, or a magnificent aquarium 
 filled with gold and silver fish.
 
 64 CONCHITA. 
 
 A bright, tropical moon sheds her lustre o'er this 
 fairy scene at which Conchita gazes like one en- 
 tranced. 
 
 Slowly she turns her eyes from the scene before 
 her, to the soft green meadow, more than a hundred 
 feet below, the stately avenues of trees, the faint, 
 blue rim of distant mountains, then nearer still to 
 grand old Popocatapetl, and beautiful Ixtaccihnatl, 
 those silent sentinels, who, from all time have 
 guarded this fertile valley and joined in the hymn 
 of praise all nature seemed singing to the great All 
 Father. 
 
 But Senora Castro does not permit her niece to 
 remain here long, for many friends are asking to 
 be presented to the lovely girl, so honored by the 
 Emperor. 
 
 Conchita, in the midst of a.gay circle, suddenly 
 feels that she is being stared out of countenance. 
 Looking around to resent this rudeness, (Mexican 
 senors are proverbial starers), she encounters the 
 adoring eyes of Don Gonzalez. 
 
 " Ah," she says extending her hand, " this is an 
 unexpected pleasure," 
 
 Many, many thanks adorable senorita, for your 
 kind reception. 1 dared not hope for one poor 
 word, when I saw you so completely surrounded. 
 Ah, my heart ! how it did leap when I beheld you. 
 The very dress you wear, recalls that most entranc- 
 ing waltz you once gave me. Oh, to hold you 
 again in these arms, and float through its dreaming 
 mazes once more ! " 
 
 "My friend," she says, "be careful. I like not 
 such extravagance." 
 
 "I will be good," he answers, "circumspect. May 
 I see you to-morrow ? "
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 65 
 
 " Certainly you may. My aunt, I know, will be 
 pleased to receive any of my friends. That is she 
 talking to Princess Josef a." 
 
 Senora Castro receives the Spaniard with much 
 courtesy, giving the desired permission to call. 
 
 Alfonso, under the circumstances, behaves beau- 
 tifully. 
 
 His jealous temperament was fully aroused, on 
 seeing Conchita, his personal property, attracting 
 such attention; yet, he mused, with a feeling of 
 pride, " this beautiful creature will one day be 
 mine." 
 
 But suppose she should fancy some one else ? 
 Had she not smiled enchaiitingly upon the Span- 
 iard ? Who was this Don Gonzalez, anyhow, where 
 had they met, how long known each other ? Were 
 they intimate, did she love him ? The Don, of 
 course made no secret of his feelings, but what of 
 hers ? She was changed, of late, was this the 
 cause ? These, and many other wild fancies racked 
 his brain, but outwardly he was calm, polished, 
 courteous. 
 
 But all things have an end, and he is not sorry 
 when the evening is over ; for it has been, to him, 
 more pain than pleasure.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ," asked Alfonso, "shall we visit 
 the floating gardens this morning ? " 
 
 "Not this morning," she answers, "I am expect- 
 ing Don Gonzalez." 
 
 " Then," he says, inwardly cursing the Spaniard, 
 "suppose we consider the engagement made for 
 to-morrow ? " 
 
 " I shall be delighted if it suits auntie. Adios 
 till we meet again. 
 
 As they kiss each other on either cheek, true 
 Mexican fashion, the Don is ushered into the sala. 
 The gentlemen bow stiffly, 'Fonso immediately 
 withdrawing. 
 
 " Beautifully Senorita," says the Don, passion- 
 ately kissing the hand she gives him," without you 
 I can not live ! Be my wife, sweet senorita ! Only 
 come to me, and I will be your slave ! " 
 
 " Senor, " she returns, withdrawing her hand, 
 " this is quite unexpected." 
 
 ' I will wait, my angel ! Give me but one ray of 
 hope ! " 
 
 "But, we are almost strangers how do you 
 know you really love me ? " 
 
 " How do I know ? " he cries passionately, " Does
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 67 
 
 not my heart beat for you alone ? I dream of you 
 by night, I think of you all day. You are with me 
 always, every hour, every minute. No, senorita, I 
 ( an not mistake. Should your blast my hopes for- 
 ever, I must love you while life is mine ! " 
 
 "Dear friend, "she answers gently, "you cannot 
 know how sorry I am but, I cannot consent. I 
 should be happy, indeed, to return your love but 
 cannot." 
 
 " The senorita, is already betrothed to her hand- 
 some cousin ? " he asks suspiciously. 
 
 "No, I love him as a brother nothing nearer." 
 
 "Then I may hope? I may try to win your 
 love ? " 
 
 "No, understand me, please. I shall probably 
 never marry. It is kinder to tell you this at once. 
 Now, will you forget all this, and be my good friend 
 once more ? " 
 
 "Oh yes," with an effort, "we shall be friends 
 and you will be kind, you will receive me ? Your 
 presence is my life ?" 
 
 " Yes, you are always welcome. What, going ? " 
 
 Adios Senorita, I shall repay your goodness. 
 Never shall my consuming passion annoy you ! 
 Locked up in my heart, shall I keep it ! " reverently 
 kissing her hand, he leaves the house, nobly strug- 
 gling against his unfortunate love. 
 
 And Conchita ? she is really pained at this pro- 
 posal. Why, could she not love him ? 
 
 He is handsome, noble, rich, devoted, what more 
 could woman ask ? Why, did not her heart go out 
 to him? She can't understand. * 
 
 Two weeks later, Mr. Greyson arrives, to escort 
 his ward home, but oho begs to remain with 
 " Auntie."
 
 68 CONCHITA. 
 
 " You are certainly old enough to know your own 
 mind, "he says." Of course, you understand my 
 wishes, but do just as you please." 
 
 " Then, my dear guardian, with your permission, 
 I shall remain where I am." 
 
 "Have you any reason for this decision, or is it 
 caprice ? " he asks sternly. 
 
 " I have reasons, but prefer keeping them to my- 
 self," coolly. 
 
 " Conchita, be frank with me. Do you love your 
 cousin ?" 
 
 " Dearly !" she says, seeing how she can gain her 
 point. 
 
 " But child, think of the unsettled condition of 
 Mexico it is really unsafe." 
 
 " Shall I desert my loved ones ?" 
 
 " You can return later, when this trouble is 
 settled." 
 
 " Oh, I am sure even Juarez and his republicans 
 won't murder Auntie and me. Really, Mr. Greyson, 
 I should be miserable in New York." 
 
 "Well child/' with a sigh, "you must be happy 
 at all costs. Have you any letters for Viva or my 
 sister? I shall leave to-morrow." 
 
 " I must certainly write to Viva. Would you like 
 to see her last letter ?" 
 
 " No ; I received one just before leaving New 
 Orleans, which told me the latest social gossip,. By 
 the way, I see our summer acquaintance, Don Gon- 
 zalez is here. Is he, too, seeking your smiles ? " 
 
 She frankly tells him of the Spaniard's court- 
 ship, v 
 
 " Why refuse him so decidedly ?" asks her guar- 
 dian, " could you not give the poor fellow a little 
 hope ? Consider, he is rich, handsome, noble ; you
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 69 
 
 would have the entree to the very best European 
 society. Do you love your cousin well enough to 
 forfeit all of these things ?" 
 
 " I tell you, as I did the Don I shall, probably, 
 never marry." 
 
 " What !" in a relieved tone, "you forget Alfonso. 
 * Oh constancy, thy name is not woman !'*' 
 
 "Don't laugh at me," she pleaded. 
 
 " Come," he says gravely, "look me straight in 
 the eye, and tell me your real reason. It is not 
 Alfonso ?" 
 
 " You are not my Confessor, and have no right to 
 my inmost. thoughts," she answers indignantly. 
 
 "You are right, I have not, "then abruptly, " Con- 
 chita could you marry a divorced man ?'' 
 
 "No," she answers slowly, though positively, "\ 
 could not. Both my church and conscience forbid 
 it. Though I loved passionately, wildly, I should 
 never marry a divorced man !" 
 
 "You are right," he says, "though 'twould be 
 hard, if you really loved one. There, run on, and 
 write your letter."
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE political affairs of Mexico went rapidly from 
 bad to worse. 
 
 Maximilian, now completely deserted by Louis 
 Napoleon, and, knowing the storm would soon 
 burst upon him, thought it wiser to remove to the 
 strongly fortified town of Queretaro, about a hun- 
 dred miles from the City of Mexico. 
 
 There he was followed by many adherents who 
 thought themselves safer nearer the imperial army. 
 
 Senora Castro, accompanied by her niece, was 
 among the first to remove to this charmingly situat- 
 ed city ; for how could she desert her dear boy ? 
 And he, of course, must remain with his majesty. 
 
 The last French regiment had sailed, but Maximi- 
 lian positively declined returning to Europe although 
 he knew almost certain death awaited him in 
 Mexico. 
 
 Poor Carlotta had accomplished nothing in her in- 
 terview with Napoleon ; and, when the Pope, her 
 last hope, failed her, she became insane. 
 
 Peshaps, therefore, her beloved " Max " cared 
 nothing for his life, and really longed for the Mexi- 
 can bullet to end the sorrowful struggle. 
 
 The French had no sooner left, than the patriotic 
 Juarez, feeling sure' of 11 le countenance, if not sup-
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 71 
 
 port, of the United States, determined to strike a 
 decisive blow. 
 
 An army under Esbedo besieged Queretaro, but 
 the Emperor with his ten thousand held out 
 bravely. 
 
 Alfonso, though only a Captain, was held in great 
 esteem by his superiors. 
 
 Though none would acknowledge it, their situa- 
 tion was becoming more desperate every day. 
 
 One morning, May 10th, while conversing with 
 Miramon, Alfonso remarks : 
 
 " I am much afraid of treason," General." 
 "Whom do you suspect ?" asked his general in 
 alarm. 
 
 " I greatly distrust Lopez," returns he. 
 " Nonsense, my dear boy," returned the relieved 
 officer, " why, Lopez is working just as ardently as 
 you or I. You are certainly mistaken." 
 
 " I sincerely hope I am ; but somehow, I cannot 
 overcome the feeling." 
 
 "Go, my dear fellow," continues his general, 
 "and amuse yourself with your pretty cousin. I 
 fear too much work and anxiety will cause you to 
 grow suspicious of even me." 
 
 ' Well," thinks 'Fonso, " I have done my duty in 
 warning him." 
 
 He enters his mother's Sala, and finds that lady 
 and Conchita conversing with Don Gonzalez. 
 
 ''Come here, 'Fonso," said his cousin, "and let 
 me tell you of my letter. I received it in the strang- 
 est way. I noticed a red silk handkerchief oil my 
 balcony this morning, and, 011 picking it up, found 
 this," holding up a letter. 
 
 " And it is from ?" 
 
 " My guardian," she interrupts. " He writes from
 
 CONCHITA. 
 
 New Orleans, saying he can arrange with our ene- 
 mies for my safe conduct from Mexico, and begs 
 that I will join him immediately. My answer, he 
 says, will reach him, if placed just where I find 
 this." 
 
 " Ah !" exclaims 'Fonso, " that looks like a traitor 
 in camp. But you, Coiichita, what will you do ?" 
 
 " Stay where I am, thank you." 
 
 " Senorita," urges the Don. "I implore you 5 accept 
 your guardian's offer. This place is not safe it 
 may fall any day." 
 
 " Would you have me forsake my nearest and 
 dearest?" she asks, with flashing eyes. "No, I 
 shall remain with them to the bitter end." 
 
 " God bless you my darling child !" cries her aunt, 
 embracing her warmly. 
 
 " I cannot express my thanks, Conchita," says her 
 cousin, gravely. " If I mistake not, mother will 
 need you sorely." 
 
 " Why 'Fonso, what do you mean ?" 
 
 " I am sure of nothing, so don't worry over my 
 doubts," he returns gravely. 
 
 Four days later his suspicion proved true Lopez 
 betrayed his Emperor. 
 
 Maximilian, and his brave generals, Miramon and 
 Mejia, were taken prisoners on the Cerro de las 
 Campanas. 
 
 Senora Castro and her niece ascended to their 
 housetop, and straining their eyes, watched for the 
 Emperor. 
 
 Long and earnestly they prayed for his success. 
 Even though her eyes were strained to the utmost, 
 and every nerve in her body seemed alive, the Sen- 
 ora dropped her beads. 
 
 Presently, Conchita set-^ Juun, her cousin's man-
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 73 
 
 servant, staggering towards them, bearing a seem- 
 ingly lifeless body. Divining at once that it i-s 
 Alfonso in this unhappy condition, both ladies for- 
 get battle-field, Emperor, Republicans, fury of ene- 
 mies, their own safety, and hasten to his relief. 
 
 They bear him tenderly to his own room and 
 apply restoratives to rouse him from the faint. 
 They look for wounds, but find only one, near the 
 heart, from which very little blood flows. 
 
 Senora has just left the room for some pet remedy, 
 when the poor fellow opens his eyes. 
 
 " 'Chita darling," he says faintly, " don't try to 
 staunch the bleeding it is internal. I must go 
 soon.. Give me your hand, love 'tis sweet to die 
 thus !" 
 
 " Oh 'Fonso ! my dear, dear brother, don't talk of 
 dying," she cries in great distress. 
 
 " Dear one," he whispers more faintly, *'will you 
 kiss me once just once darling on the lips ?" 
 
 As she bends her head and gives a long, tender 
 kiss, a look of quiet happiness over-spreads his face. 
 
 His mother enters with a bottle, but waiving it 
 aside, he says : 
 
 " Mother, it is no use I have only a few mo- 
 ments left. Bid me good bye." 
 
 " Holy Mother of God, save my boy !" cried the 
 poor lady, frantic with grief. " Alfonso, my dar- 
 ling, do not leave me !" but he only smiled peace- 
 fully, and, with one last, tender look at 'Chita, 
 closed his eyes and died. 
 
 The poor mother's grief was intense, for Alfonso 
 was her all. In person she implored the haughty 
 conqueror to permit her son the customary funeral 
 rites, and even the stern enemy could not refuse. 
 
 After the funeral they leave this city of beautiful
 
 74 CONCHITA. 
 
 fountains, but sad, sweet memories, and return to 
 the City of Mexico. Here Senora Castro will re- 
 main till she gains heart to form some definite plan 
 for the future. 
 
 Conchita determines to remain with her, but her 
 plans are materially changed by the receipt of the 
 following letter: 
 
 "NEW YORK, May 26, 1867. 
 "DEAR CONCHITA: 
 " Come home immediately. 
 
 "Have written our friend, Don Gonzalez, to 
 arrange your journey. 
 
 " Would come for you myself, but am called to 
 Paris on business of importance. 
 " Let nothing hinder your return. 
 
 Your affectionate guardian, 
 
 E. GREYSON."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "AH my dear friend," says Conchita, as the Don 
 1~\ bows himself into the room, " I have been 
 longing to see you !" 
 
 " Senorita is too good ! You need me I can be of 
 service ?" his dark eyes beam with pleasure. 
 
 " Yes," she returns, " you received a letter from 
 my guardian, asking you to arrange for my return 
 to the United States ?" 
 
 "I did, sweet lady, and come now, to place my 
 poor services at you disposal." 
 
 " Thanks. I wish to return as quickly as possible. 
 What do you consider the safest and most rapid 
 conveyance to our nearest shipping point ? " 
 
 " Private conveyance. I shall secure a pass from 
 
 General E , which will ensure our safety. The 
 
 whole country, I hear, is full of Juarests." 
 
 " I do not fear them," she remarks," for I too, am 
 republican." 
 
 " Poor Maximilian ana nis generals will suffer, I 
 fear, " remarks the Don gravely." 
 
 " I fear so," she returns sadly. " Though repub- 
 ican in sentiment, I greatly admire Maximilian's 
 character. He is a grand noble man, but nothing 
 will save him from the concentrated fury of my 
 fiery countrymen,"
 
 76 CONCHITA. 
 
 " Yes," he assents, Mexico has endured many 
 wrongs, but she will probably never get a better 
 government than the enlightened one she has just 
 overthrown. 
 
 Look at the improvements His Majesty had be- 
 gun. It is a great, a sad mistake." 
 
 " Yes," she says, " it is the saddest mistake in all 
 history. The Emperor is not at fault, he was 
 basely betrayed a victim to French fickleness. 
 Napoleon's ambition and cowardice are at the 
 bottom of Maximilian's troubles. Mexico, for 
 many years has been trying to throw off the effects 
 of the centuries of oppression, bloodshed and cruelty 
 she has endured. Now the climax is reached, and 
 Maximilian must be the victim ! " 
 
 For a few moments they are lost in gloomy reflec- 
 tions ; then, the Spanaird says : 
 
 " I will call later, Senorita, and tell you of our 
 plans. By the by, what does your aunt say to giv- 
 ing you up ? " 
 
 "She thinks it best for me to obey my guardian." 
 
 " Doubtless the Senora is in despair at her great 
 loss. Adios senorita, I kiss your feet." 
 
 Conchita begins the packing for she knows, if 
 possible, she will leave the next day. 
 
 " Auntie," she remarks, as that lady assists in 
 folding sundry garments, " I wonder why he wrote 
 such a short positive note ? His letters are usually 
 so kind and gentle. Can he be angry that I staid 
 with you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps some business troubles annoyed him," 
 wisely suggests the kind lady. 
 
 " Well," determinedly, " I shan't worry for this 
 is the last day we shall have together for a long, 
 long time."
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 7? 
 
 "Yes, dear child, it may be our very last. You 
 will marry in a few years if not months, then I 
 must give you up entirely. 
 
 "Don't distress yourself on that point I don't 
 think I shall ever marry at any rate, not for years 
 and years to come." 
 
 " You think so now, because you have never 
 loved," says her aunt, sighing over her own broken 
 dream of 'Fonso's marriage. 
 
 " Ah," exclaims 'Chita with a short, quick sob, 
 " I have not ? " 
 
 " No, dear " continued her aunt, " but when it 
 does come, you will speak very differently." 
 
 That afternoon, Don Gonzalez informs our hero- 
 ine that he had completed all necessary arrange- 
 ments for the journey. 
 
 "We shall be ready, then to leave at six, to-mor- 
 row morning ? " he asks. 
 
 " Why," in surprise," are you going?" 
 " Certainly, unless you forbid." 
 "Forbid! I am only too delighted" she says, 
 much pleased. 
 
 " You are more than kind, sweet lady ! " 
 " Indeed, the goodness is all your own. You have 
 no idea how I dreaded that long lonely trip." 
 
 " Ah, dear friend, you know not the rapture it 
 gives me to serve you in any way !" 
 
 " Fear not ! " he exclaims, as an alarmed look 
 comes'into her face. " I swear, by the holy cross, 
 we both hold sacred, to cherish and protect you 
 from all harm, as though you were my own sister ! 
 Can you not trust me senorita ? " 
 
 " I can, dear friend, with both life and honor. I 
 have implicit confidence in your true nobility of 
 character."
 
 CONCHITA. 
 
 Thanks ! A thousand thanks ! and we shall 
 always be the dearest, warmest friends ? " 
 
 "Always, Don. Nothing can break our friend- 
 ship." 
 
 " Then, adios, senorita. I will be punctual to- 
 morrow," and, kissing her hand, he withdraws. 
 
 After many stoppages, and other inconveniences, 
 they arrive in New York, and finally alight in 
 front of Mr. Greyson's home. 
 
 ee Here Conchita is received by the porter, who 
 informs her that, " The Mistress said you might go 
 straight to your own room, and I was to tell her the 
 minute you arrived." 
 
 " Very well, Simpson, Don Gonzalez, Mrs. Pauld- 
 ing I know, would like to return thanks for your 
 kindness to me. Won't you come in ? " 
 
 " Thanks, senorita, I will call later." 
 
 "Then good bye, till then." 
 
 " Adios Senorita" 
 
 'Chita is scarcely in her room before Viva rushes 
 in to greet her. 
 
 " Oh you dear, darling old thing !" she exclaims, 
 between numerous hugs and extra kisses, " you 
 haven't the least idea how dreadfully anxious we've 
 all been ! I was so afraid you'd be mixed up in 
 those awful troubles and get murdered, or im- 
 prisoned or something." 
 
 "Well, my dear/' says 'Chita coolly, "you see I 
 was neither murdered nor ' somethinged.' ' 
 
 " Oh, you provoking piece!" exclaims Viva, "Is 
 this the way you repay my loving anxiety ? Base 
 ingrate -' to ridicule my mode of speech ! Never 
 mind, Miss Particularity, I shall punish you severely
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 79 
 
 you shall hear none of my love affair ! There 
 now ! Are you not sorry for your abominable con- 
 duct ?" 
 
 "I rather think, my dear," laughs 'Chita, "that 
 the punishment would fall heavier on yourself so 
 pray, don't inflict useless suffering." 
 
 "Oh, 'Chita," she says, forgetting her resolution, 
 of silence, " I've got such quantities to tell you ! 
 You remember, I wrote you of my engagement ? 
 Well, Harry worried so, that I let him tell Uncle 
 Earnest, who was quite kind, and promised to talk 
 mama over. But my sweet mother opened the 
 vials 01 her . wrath upon our devoted heads and I 
 seriously doubt if any human being could ever rec- 
 oncile her to the match. My gracious ! It was a 
 day to be remembered ! ' Angels and ministers of 
 grace defend us ' from such another !" 
 
 "Does she still oppose it?" 
 
 "Yes, my sweet, but we shall run away, some 
 day." 
 
 " Why, Viva, you would not, really ?" 
 
 "That depends, my love but, the enemy ap- 
 proacheth ! ' Arm ye brave !' ' 
 
 Enter Mrs. Paulding in her stateliest manner. 
 
 She gives Miss Merle a cold, unsympathetic little 
 kiss, then remarks pleasantly, "So, you are back 
 again, but I wonder that you were not punished for 
 your obstinacy." 
 
 "Many thanks, Mrs. Paulding for your' gracious 
 reception. Did your brother leave me a message ?" 
 
 "Earnest? No, why should he? Poor fellow! 
 He has been harassed enough by your stubborn re- 
 fusal to leave Mexico. He said to me, just before 
 he left, and I give you his exact words, ' Would to 
 God I had never seen her !' "
 
 80 CONCHITA. 
 
 Conchita's black eyes flashed angrily, but her 
 voice is coolly indifferent as she remarks, " In little 
 more than a year he will be relieved of me. It was 
 kind of you to repeat his flattering speech ; and, I 
 appreciate the motive, fully as much as the re- 
 mark." 
 
 "1 see," retorts the elder woman, "that Mexican 
 society has improved neither your temper nor your 
 manners. I leave you, Miss Merle, till you learn to 
 conduct yourself more properly." 
 
 "Thank the Lord that's over!" exclaims Viva, 
 as the door closes on her indignant parent. " Don't 
 you think, 'Chita, that her temper sweetens with 
 age?" 
 
 "But Viva," says 'Chita, deeply wounded, "how- 
 could your Uncle make such a remark ? I never 
 thought he considered me a torment !" 
 
 "My de"ar girl, you know my angelic mother's 
 ways. I have no idea he ever said it however, 
 he'll be home in about two weeks, so you can ask 
 him all about it." 
 
 "Indeed, I shall not ! I only wish I'd stayed with 
 Auntie." 
 
 " No my child, he would not allow it. He would 
 have gone for you himself and you would have 
 obeyed. You don't know how determined he is. 
 Honestly, I think the old fellow was afraid your 
 handsome cousin would steal you away from him. 
 My Uncle is selfish, petite." 
 
 "Don't talk so, Viva. Perhaps you have not 
 heard of poor 'Fonso's death ?" 
 
 " Oh, 'Chita, I'm so sorry ! We heard of the fall 
 of Queretaro, the capture of the Emperor and his 
 generals, but supposed your cousin safe." 
 
 "He died nobly," says 'Chita, "a soldier on duty.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 81 
 
 I am glad his end was in defense of the Emperor he 
 loved so well for Mexican court martials are mere 
 farces. They mean certain death. To be shot 
 down like a dog !" 
 
 " I don't mean to be unfeeling, but forget Mexico 
 and her troubles, and lie down you really need a 
 nap. Mama and I are going shopping, so I must 
 don my street dress. Shall I send you something to 
 eat ? Louise, I know, will be charmed to bring it." 
 
 " A cup of chocolate, please, in about an hour. 
 When will you return?" 
 
 "Can't say, may lunch down town. Don't get 
 lonesome." 
 
 "I'll amuse myself unpacking. Good-bye."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 LEFT to herself, Conchita slept till Louise 
 entered with her chocolate. Then, refreshing 
 herself with a bath and fresh clothing, she goes to 
 the library. 
 
 Here everything reminds her forcibly of her 
 guardian. 
 
 His arm chair, foot-stool, the basket of torn let- 
 ters, an open book, turned face downward, all 
 brought happy memories of those dear, quiet hours 
 spent in study. Would they ever return she won- 
 dered ? Or did lie really regret the trust, imposed 
 by his dying friend ? 
 
 Going to the piano, placed there by his kind 
 thoughtfulness, she raises its lid, and is about to 
 run her fingers over the ivory keys, when she dis- 
 covers a small package, addressed to herself, resting 
 upon them. 
 
 It is a small velvet case, round which is wrapped 
 the following note : 
 
 "My DEAR 'CHITA: 
 
 In looking over a collection of antique jewels I 
 found this. If you can willingly leave your Mexi- 
 can relatives, and stay contentedly with me, wear 
 it till I return. Then, we may better understand 
 each other, and be happier than before. 
 
 Think of me always as, Your loving 
 
 GUARDIAN." 
 
 She opened the box with an exclamation of pleas-
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 83 
 
 ure, for there lay the lovliest, quaintest old ring she 
 had ever seen ! On a slender band, a mere thread, 
 was set a tiny four-leaf clover, brilliant with dia- 
 monds. 
 
 "How lovely!" she cries. "And how good of 
 him to think of 'me ! Of course I shall wear it." She 
 slipped it upon her slender finger and turned it 
 slowly to watch the sparkle. 
 
 " My dear Guardian ! He is not tired of me after 
 all. How could I believe him unkind?" 
 
 But she had not a little teasing from Viva, who 
 was very curious to know all about the new ring. 
 Conchita somehow, shrank from explaining that it 
 came from her guardian : for well she knew^the 
 supercilious looks and unpleasant allusions to 
 " poor Earnest's infatuation " that Mrs. Paulding 
 would heap upon her. 
 
 So, when Viva .exclaimed, "Oh, .'Chita! Where 
 did you get that queer old ring?" 
 
 She answered simply, " It was given to me." 
 
 " By whom ? The giver has excellent taste. My ! 
 how I wish my adorer would give me such a beauty 
 though mine is handsome," looking lovingly at 
 the solitaire on her left hand. " Come, tell me all 
 about it. I see it is your engagement finger are 
 you to marry soon ? And who is the happy man ?" 
 
 "This is no love token," says 'Chita, blushing 
 deeply " simply a gift from my dearest and truest 
 friend my " 
 
 " Oh, I know !" interrupts Viva. "It's the Don ! 
 We met him while shopping, and he will call to- 
 morrow, as we are engaged for this evening. How 
 lovely to have such a nice rich beau ! I do not envy 
 you, however, for I saw Harry too ; he sends his re 
 gards and says he will call soon. I guess we shall
 
 84 CONCHITA. 
 
 have another row with my sweet mother when 
 Uncle Earnest comes, for I can keep Harry quiet 
 no longer. He must wait till then, or take me with- 
 out any wedding finery. White satin, kid gloves, 
 and orange blossoms are very dear to my heart, but 
 I should not dare to broach the subject without 
 Uncle Earnest's support." 
 
 So Viva rattled on, changing the subject before 
 'Chita could correct her mistake. 
 
 A week passed, still another, but no Mr. Greyson 
 appeared. 
 
 Conchita filled the vases each morning with fresh 
 flowers, and kept the library in perfect order for his 
 reception still, he came not. 
 
 The Don had bidden them good-bye, and sailed 
 for Spain called home on important business. 
 
 Harry and Viva were so wrapped up in each other 
 that 'Chita was much alone. 
 
 This evening, she sits in the gathering shadows, 
 singing Mrs. Hemans' beautiful "- Evening Song to 
 the Virgin." 
 
 Clear and deep rings out the exquisite melody, 
 and each word, coming from her very heart is dis- 
 tinct and full of feeling. 
 
 " Ave sanctissima, 
 
 We lift our souls to thee, 
 Or a pronobis, 
 1 Tis night-fall on the sea. 
 
 Watch us while shadows lie ; 
 
 Far o'er the waters spread 
 Hear the heart's lonely sigh, 
 
 Thine too hath bled. 
 
 Thou that hast looked on death, 
 
 Aid us when Death is near. 
 Whisper of Heav'n to Faith, 
 
 Sweet Mother, swt-et mother, hear !" 
 
 A man enters quietly and steps unseen, behind
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 85 
 
 the inspired singer; he looks hungrily into her 
 sweet face and presses his lips to the dark masses 
 of hair coiled low upon her neck. 
 
 " Ora pronobis, 
 The wave must rock our sleep, 
 
 Ora, Mater, ora, 
 Star of the Deep." 
 
 The last deep tone has died away, when, dropping 
 his hands to her shoulders, he says, softly : 
 
 "Conchita ! Are you glad to see me ?" 
 
 " Very glad, sir." 
 
 "Prove it, my darling! Give me a kiss from 
 your own sweet lips. 
 
 "No,' 5 he answers, as she turns her cheek, "I 
 want your lips. Just once, Conchita I What ! must 
 I take it by force ?" 
 
 Folding her in his arms he kisses eyes, brow and 
 lips in such an ardent, possessive manner, that she 
 pleads : 
 
 "Oh, dear Mr. Grey son, please let me go !" in a 
 vain effort to hide her face, she unthinkingly drops 
 her head on his shoulder. 
 
 "That is right," he says, lovingly pressing it 
 closer to his heart. 
 
 "Oh, let me go !" making vain efforts to free 
 herself. 
 
 " Never !" he says, " Till you promise to stay with 
 me always." 
 
 " You are cruel !" 
 
 " Cruel, my darling ? Don't you know I love you 
 madly better than life itself ? Look up, my sweet 
 tell me, can you love me a little ?" 
 
 " Don't" she exclaims in horror, " have you for- 
 gotten that woman " 
 
 " I hope to, love," he interrupts, "with your help. 
 Thank God she can trouble us no more. I buried
 
 86 CONCHITA. 
 
 her a month ago there can be no mistake. Now, 
 sweet-heart, you shall tell me you love your cross 
 old guardian ? 
 
 "With all my heart !" she whispers shyly, look- 
 ing down. 
 
 " Then put your arms around my neck close, and 
 say, ' Earnest, I love you ! ' " 
 
 Blushingly she obeys, saying softly, "Earnest I 
 love you." 
 
 "And will marry you," continues her instructor, 
 " one week from to-day !' 
 
 " Oh no !" she exclaims, " that's too soon." 
 
 "Not a bit of it ! I want you so much pet,' 
 pleadingly. 
 
 "But, when people marry, they should get a lot 
 of dresses and " 
 
 " Nonsense ! Do I want you, or your clothes ? I 
 shall cable Worth to have a complete trosseau ready 
 when we arrive in Paris. We will send your meas- 
 ure, complexion, and eyes, leaving the rest to his 
 exquisite taste. My wife," with a fond kiss, "-shall 
 not be tormented by worrying dressmakers. I want 
 her all to myself." 
 
 "But your sister?" says Chita, " she will be so 
 angry ! " 
 
 "I can hold my own," he answers proudly. 
 
 " But please don't tell her yet." 
 
 "Why love, how can I have you to myself, if 
 they know nothing of our plans ? I am too selfish 
 to care for other company." 
 
 " Don't you remember," she says artlessly, " they 
 rarely ever come here." 
 
 " And you will meet me often ? " he questions 
 eagerly. 
 
 " When you like," she says, sweetly.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 87 
 
 " Good girl !" with a satisfied smile, " she shall 
 have something pretty," he feels for some object in 
 his pocket. There is a flash of diamonds as he 
 places the ring upon her: finger. 
 
 " Little darling !" he exclaims, seeing his former 
 gift, " you wore my ring ! You were willing to 
 stay?" 
 
 "Yes," she answers, "it was a great comfort to 
 me ; wearing it seemed to bring me nearer to 
 you." 
 
 " What did you think, sweetheart, when you read 
 my note ? " 
 
 " That you were kind and considerate." 
 
 "Not that I loved you?" 
 
 "No, I never dreamed of that." 
 
 " And you, sweet, when did you begin to love 
 me ? " 
 
 " I don't know I only found it out that that day 
 at New Orleans." 
 
 " My own darling ! I thought you despised me 
 then. I have loved you, pet, almost from the first. 
 You have no idea how jealous I was of Don Gonza- 
 lez and your cousin." 
 
 "Poor 'Fonso," she sighs, "he died nobly." 
 
 " Better death, love, than life without you." 
 
 "Oh," she cries, "let me go ! I hear some one 
 coming." 
 
 Kissing her passionately, he quotes : 
 
 " I can not leave thee. 
 
 Though I say, 
 Good-bye, sweetheart, 
 Good-bye! " 
 
 " Adios, Senor," she returns demurely, slipping 
 from the room. 
 
 ******* 
 
 A few days later Mrs. Paulding discovered her
 
 88 CONCHITA. 
 
 brother's engagement, and the good lady's anger 
 knew no bounds. 
 
 She entered the library one morning, to consult 
 her brother on some little business matters, when to 
 her horror, she saw him seated on the sofa, his arm 
 around 'Chita's waist, her head upon his breast, her 
 beautiful black eyes looking love into the face, bent 
 with such adoring tenderness to catch her every 
 whisper. 
 
 " Earnes.t Greyson !" fairly yelled his enraged 
 relative, " what do you mean by such outrageous 
 conduct ?" 
 
 " What do I mean ?" he answers coolly, "why my 
 dear sister, I mean in short matrimony !" 
 
 "One would think, "she retorts bitterly, " that 
 one trial of matrimonial bliss (?) would satisfy 
 you." 
 
 "Well, you see it has not," then, very politely, 
 " if that is all, we will excuse you." 
 
 " And does that artful jade know your wife is 
 living?" she inquires angrily. 
 
 " This lady," drawing 'Chita still closer, " who, in 
 a few days will be my wife, is thoroughly acquaint- 
 ed with my past. The person you so kindly allude 
 to, is dead." 
 
 " Dead !" she exclaims, " I have my doubts. Mark 
 my words nothing but shame and misery will come 
 of this marriage ! But I've nothing to say abso- 
 lutely nothing ! I wash my hands of the whole 
 affair." With scornful mien, she walks in stately 
 anger from their presence. 
 
 " She almost makes me feel that we are doing 
 wrong," says 'Chita with a little shudder. "What 
 if I bring pain and suffering to you ?" 
 
 " Why darling," he answers tenderly, " what ill
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 89 
 
 can befall us, so long as we love and trust each 
 other as now ? " 
 
 " I don't know. But I dread something I know 
 not what !" 
 
 " Come pet," soothingly, "think of something else. 
 Shall we go direct to Switzerland or tarry a while 
 in Paris?" 
 
 " Oh," she says, diverted at once, " nature first, by 
 all means ! Art can wait." 
 
 Viva and Harry, on hearing of the approaching 
 marriage, determine, in spite of all opposition, to 
 be united by the same ceremony. 
 
 " I never would have believed it of 'Chita !" laughs 
 Viva, " never ! I will always suspect all quiet girls, 
 after this. They are ' deep, sir, deep, and sly, dev- 
 ilish sly ! ' But I'm so glad we'll all marry and go 
 off together. It's just simply lovely !" 
 
 "And pray," asks her mother's cold, sarcastic 
 voice," in what will you clothe yourselves? You 
 have nothing literally nothing !" 
 
 " Oh well," laughs her saucy daughter, " we can 
 go South, and emulate Mother Eve's noble ex- 
 ample." 
 
 The few day before the marriage are filled with 
 much shopping, packing, unpleasant remarks from 
 Mrs. Paulding, but delightful love talks with their 
 adorers. 
 
 The double wedding is a very private affair, and 
 the happy party starts immediately for Europe. 
 
 "At last," says Earnest, as Conchita and he 
 stand on deck, watching the land slowly fade from 
 sight, ''' I feel that you are my very own !" 
 
 "It is so strange," she answers, slowly turning 
 her wedding ring, "that this, and a few solemn 
 words can so change our lives."
 
 90 CONCHITA. 
 
 "Delightfully strange/' he returns with a happy 
 laugh. " But pet, I have some sad news." 
 
 "Is Auntie " 
 
 " Auntie is quite well. My news is political. 
 Maximilian, Miramon and Mejia were shot, on the 
 ' hill of the bells,' June the nineteenth." 
 
 "How horrible ! But I feared it all along. Poor 
 Carlotta !" 
 
 ''Come, love, forget it all tell me, now that the 
 world is before us, are you quite content, can you 
 trust your whole happiness to me ?" 
 
 "I trust you perfectly, utterly!" she whispers 
 softly. 
 
 " Then may God deal with me as I do with you, 
 my wife !" he answers reverently.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 OUR bridal party has spent a month among the 
 glorious Alps. 
 
 They have scaled the Jungfrau, gazed with 
 mingled awe and admiration on the eternal snows 
 of Mount Blanc and the Matterhorn, walked upon 
 the wonderful Mer der Glac, listened to the clear 
 reverberating songs of numerous shepherd lads, and 
 sailed on the calm waters of blue Lucern. 
 
 Viva now craves a change, and insists on going to 
 Paris, being presented, and plunge into French 
 society. 
 
 But 'Chita is unwilling to leave these lofty, snow- 
 capped summits, poetic legends, and their ideal life 
 for the unsatisfying gaieties of brilliant Paris. 
 
 "Well, my dear aunt," laughs mischievous Viva, 
 " we shall stay one week longer; then you positively 
 must go with us ; I have just set my heart on being 
 presented with your own handsome self. Besides 
 my court dress is lovely ! Almost as beautiful as 
 your own." 
 
 " And you are dying to wear it ?" questions 
 'Chita. 
 
 " Of course ! Ar'nt you ?" 
 
 "Not especially." 
 
 " Then, madame, you don't deserve such gowns !
 
 92 CONCHITA. 
 
 I'm ashamed of you ! One would think you had 
 been married thirty years instead of days!" 1 exclaimed 
 Mrs. McAlister indignantly ; for the little lady de- 
 lighted in dress and society. 
 
 One day, towards the end of 'Chita's week of 
 grace, they are overtaken, on the mountains, by a 
 blinding rain-storm. 
 
 "There is a house near by," says the guide, " but," 
 crossing himself devoutly " the old woman that lives 
 in it is a witch !" 
 
 "Lead on !" cried Mr. Greyson, " if in league with 
 Satan himself, she must shelter us !" 
 
 A short walk brings them to dilapitated old hut, 
 on the door of which their guide raps loudly. An 
 ancient crone opens it wide enough to protrude her 
 head, and asks in French, " What do you want ?" 
 
 " Shelter, good woman, for the love of God !" 
 cried Earnest. 
 
 "Enter," she returns, shortly. 
 
 A few coals smoulder on the open fire-place, and 
 round these our half frozen tourists gather. 
 
 Their hostess takes no further notice of them, 
 but sits with open, staring eyes, like one in a 
 trance. 
 
 The storm rages furiously. The wind howls hor- 
 ribly, then moans and sobs like some wild creature 
 in agony. 
 
 But our party are too busy thawing themselves to 
 be awed by these wierd surroundings. 
 
 By and by they spread their lunch upon the floor, 
 and invite the old woman to join them ; but she is 
 too absorbed in her stony gaze to heed them. 
 
 At last the storm subsides and Conchita, approach- 
 ing their eccentric hostess, says : 
 
 " We thank you greatly, Madame, for your timely
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 93 
 
 shelter. Will you not accept this," offering her 
 purse, "as a token of our gratitude?" 
 
 " I want not your gold, lady," answers the woman, 
 " but listen " grasping her hand in a strong, mag- 
 netic clasp, " you are in danger jreat danger ! Go 
 not to Paris, you will be miserable !" 
 
 "Why madame," returns Chita in amaze, "my 
 husband can protect me." 
 
 " No, child, he will be powerless ! None can help 
 you. 'Tis written your happiness will be but ashcx! 
 Beware of the black-eyed woman she hates you 
 will separate you from all you love. Beware ! my 
 spirits never lie. Farewell, Concliita remember!" 
 
 'Chita's hand slowly falls to her side, and the 
 prophetess once more resumes her visionary state. 
 
 " Come, darling," says Earnest, seeing how agi- 
 tated his wife had become, " let us leave this un- 
 canny place. No wonder you are frightened. Don't 
 think of it pet." 
 
 "Oh Earnest, my husband, I fear some evil!" 
 cries 'Chita, much distressed. "How could she 
 know my name, or that we were going to 
 Paris ?" 
 
 " She is probably a mind reader." he returns. 
 " Don't distress yourself, sweetheart. What could 
 part or make us unhappy?" 
 
 " Be patient, with me, dearest 1 know not what 
 I fear !" 
 
 She is really much distressed oy the strange warn- 
 ing. Though not permitting herself to believe, yet 
 she fears some hidden evil; an unaccountable 
 feeling of terror possesses her when Paris is 
 mentioned. 
 
 Viva tries to laugh away this "superstitious 
 crank," but poor 'Chita receives her gay remarks,
 
 94 CONCHITA. 
 
 as she does Mr. Greyson's serious reasoning, in 
 dumb despair. 
 
 "Conchita," said her husband, "this is unlike 
 you. Be brave, my darling! If danger must be 
 encountered, should we not meet it at once ?" 
 
 " You are right/' she acknowledges." Uncertainty 
 is killing! Let us start to-morrow." 
 
 " Plucky little woman !" he cries, kissing her 
 fondly. 
 
 "And Earnest, if anything should happen " 
 
 "Nothing will happen, my sweet !" 
 
 "You will always love me just as you do now?" 
 
 " Nonsense, pet ! I could not love you less." 
 
 Next day they leave for Paris, and plunge at once 
 into the gayeties of that charming city. 
 
 Viva's long wished for presentation at last takes 
 place, and the girls attract much attention, both for 
 their beauty and exquisite toilettes. 
 
 Though constantly on the go, they are "doing 
 Paris " leisurely each according to his or her own 
 taste. The gay capital is no novelty to Mr. Grey- 
 son, so he goes submissively, wherever his young 
 wife leads. 
 
 This morning we find them in the Louvre, admir- 
 ing its priceless works of art. 
 
 "How exquisite !" she exclaims, stopping before 
 one of Tintoretto's famous pictures. "Is not that 
 coloring beautiful? Those flesh tints are simply 
 perfect ! They remind me of Titian." 
 
 "Ha! ha! My sweet innocent," cries a mocking 
 voice, "so I've found you at last !" 
 
 " Blanchette !" qried Mr. Greyson, turning deathly 
 pale. "My God! can the dead live?'' 
 
 "Not so, my dear husband," she answers, a cruel 
 light in her eyes.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 95 
 
 " How could I leave you desolate ? But look at 
 Madame she faints ! Mon Dieu f she loves you 
 much! Ha! ha! ha!" 
 
 'Chita certainly looks faint, but motions him 
 away, and leans for support against a massive 
 column. 
 
 " Tell me, you fiend in human shape," cries 
 Earnest in angry despair, "how you managed to 
 deceive me ! Did I not place you in your coffin, and 
 see you buried?" 
 
 "You did, my sweet lord. That was my little 
 game. Blanchette is wise ; she knew you loved the 
 young innocent. Did not your eyes declare it that 
 night in New Orleans? So, loving you so dearly, 
 she formed the little plan to complete your happi- 
 ness. Ha! ha! Revenge is sweet !" 
 
 " But your death ?" he asks sternly. 
 
 'Chut! Is it possible Monsieur has not heard of 
 
 the great mesmerist C ? what more easy than a 
 
 hypnotic slumber ? I could rely on faithful friends 
 to rescue my poor body. All are not so unkind as 
 my dear husband. Ha ! ha ! How does the new 
 wife feel ? I wish you joy, sweet innocent ! ' When 
 shall we three meet again ?' " Adieu Madame, may 
 you be happy ! Ha ! ha !" and with a fiendish laugh, 
 she disappeared as suddenly as she came. 
 
 "Conchita," says Mr. Greyson, "my darling 
 wife " 
 
 "Oh, no!" she cries with a shudder, "do not 
 touch me ! I am not your wife, have never been ! 
 O God ! what shall I do ?" 
 
 "Dearest, listen to me. Legally, and morally you 
 are my wife. That fiend is nothing to me. No 
 power in heaven or hell can separate us save your 
 own will,"
 
 96 CONCHITA. 
 
 "Holy Mother!" she cries in anguish/' help me 
 to decide." 
 
 " Come, love," he says tenderly let us go home." 
 
 " Home ! I have no home ! Oh, why did I leave 
 my own sunny land ?" 
 
 " Come, Conchita, this is no place for private dis- 
 cussions," He takes her arm, walks silently through 
 the building, enters a cab and is rapidly driven to 
 their hotel. 
 
 "Now, dear child," he says, as they reach their 
 own rooms," be perfectly open with me. You 
 know I would give my life to ensure your happi- 
 ness." 
 
 "I am too stunned for thought," she answers. 
 " Leave me, please, and don't let Viva come in." 
 
 "No, dear love," bending to kiss her, but she 
 shrinks from his caress. With a sigh he leaves her. 
 
 Alone with her own heart, Conchita fights a long 
 fierce battle. 
 
 " Leave him at once," says Conscience, " he is not 
 your husband. Life with him will be nothing less 
 than adultery. ' What God hath joined, let no man 
 put asunder.'" 
 
 "But," whispers Inclination, "did God join him 
 to that wretch ? Was it not the devil's own work ? 
 You are his wife by the great love you bear each 
 other, by your kinship of feeling, by that vondrous 
 magnetic chord which unites your very souls ! That 
 complete oneness is given only of heaven. Listen 
 to your heart ' God is love.' " 
 
 "The heart is deceitful;" urges Conscience, "heed 
 not its pleadings." 
 
 " Conscience often commits great crimes," sug- 
 gests Love, " Love comes from God, and is //(>/>/, 
 pure, unselfish! Think how he adores you, how
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 97 
 
 happy you have been, how miserable you would be 
 apart. Think of his lonely life can you have the 
 heart to leave him ? Will you be content ? You 
 are so young think of the long, sad years you must 
 spend alone, alone, alone!" 
 
 " I cannot give him up! " she cries, in agony. 
 
 "Dear child," says Conscience, " think calmly. 
 Your mother, the Church, forbids the indulgence 
 you crave. Consider your early training, the beau- 
 tiful prayers you learned in childhood, the vows 
 you took at confirmation our holy mother would 
 grieve over your shameful sin. Can you cut your- 
 self off from her consolation, give up the holy com- 
 munion for the mere gratification of self ? Purify 
 your heart, O! child of earth reach out for lofty 
 ideas, holy aspirations. Seek to become more like 
 the great Eternal, and ' A peace, that passeth all un- 
 derstanding ' will fill your heart." 
 
 "But," ventures Worldly Wisdom, "what will 
 society say ? Have you thought of the scandal 'twill 
 cause ? Go quietly on with your married life there 
 is no sin. You were both deceived. Drown your 
 sorrows in gaieties, remember ' There's a skeleton 
 in every household.' ' 
 
 "Oh holy mother!" prays the poor distracted 
 girl, " Guide me aright, help me O Father, to do my 
 duty make the way plain for thy poor, miserable 
 child. Give me strength to follow thy command !" 
 
 By degrees, she becomes calm, and when Mr. 
 Grey son returns can talk quietly, almost dispas- 
 sionately. 
 
 "It is best, dear," she says sadly, ""that we sepa- 
 rate but we need have no publicity. Viva and 
 Harry will return soon, and till then, I will pass as
 
 98 CONCHITA. 
 
 your wife. Of course, you will have your own 
 apartments, but they need not know." 
 
 "And afterwards ?" asks her husband, whose well 
 controlled face is like a marble mask. "Have you 
 thought of that ?" 
 
 " Yes, I shall remain, to study Art in Rome. And 
 you you have always your business." 
 
 "And must I never see you, never know if you 
 are living or dead?" 
 
 "It is best so." 
 
 "Would you be happier?' 
 
 "I should suffer less." 
 
 "It shall be as you desire. I will do all in my 
 power to render you less miserable." 
 
 " Thank you so much for your kind unselfishness. 
 I know how terribly you suffer." 
 
 "Do not think of me, pet. It is the thought that 
 I, who love you so very dearly should have brought 
 this blight on young life, which distresses me so." 
 
 " Oh my darling ?" she cries, throwing herself in- 
 to his arm. " Grieve not that we love. Your love is 
 my brightest jewel one that will never grow dim !" 
 
 " Thank God ! " he says, kissing her almost rever- 
 ently, " we can love, and sin not. 'Love is eternal ' 
 and lives, even after death."
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE first few weeks of her altered life are very 
 trying to poor Conchita. 
 
 No matter how sad she feels, she must appear 
 gay and happy so long as Viva and Harry are with 
 them. 
 
 At last, to her intense relief, they return to 
 America, and she settles in earnest, to begin her 
 Art work. 
 
 Instead of going to Rome she procures comforta- 
 ble apartments in the old Latin quarter, so well 
 known for its picturesque settings, and joins a class 
 of American students who are making a brave fight 
 for art and fame. 
 
 This she does for companionship, well knowing 
 the gay bohemianism of her comrades would aid 
 largely in making her forget self. 
 
 Time is a great healer ; and now that two years 
 have passed, Conchita really enjoys her work. 
 
 Hers is a truly artistic nature. Possessed of a 
 good eye for form and color, a fine understanding 
 of light and shade, a thorough knowledge of per- 
 spective, a dainty touch at scumbling, she has that 
 subtile perception, genius, or what you will, which 
 puts actual life into trees, animals and human fig- 
 ures lights the face with expression, a.nd makes all 
 objects depicted seem perfectly natural.
 
 100 CONCAITA, 
 
 ? She is now putting her whole soul into a " ten-by- 
 seven " foot canvas for the' salon " The Last Kiss." 
 The setting sun sheds his last brilliant rays over a 
 deserted battle-field. The back-ground of distant 
 blue mountains, nearer snow-clad summits, and 
 soft green foliage, reminds one forcibly of Mexico. 
 Dead soldiers, broken pieces of artillery, guns, can- 
 teens, spent balls, and various implements of war, 
 are scattered over the grassy plane, which forms the 
 middle distance. In the immediate fore-ground 
 lies an officer, wearing the uniform of Imperial 
 Mexico. A stream of blood flows from his heart. 
 His face, though remarkably handsome, is stamped 
 with an unmistakable presence Death ! His dark 
 eyes look wistfully, hungrily, into those of the beau- 
 ful, white robed girl who kneels beside him. Her 
 face is full of sad emotion, as her tremulous red lips 
 meet his, in one last, lingering kiss. 
 
 The reader, of course, will easily recognize the 
 principal figures. Our artist, feeling so deeply on 
 the subject, makes her faces, attitudes and surround- 
 ings intensely life-like. 
 
 Mr. Greyson, during these two years, has re- 
 mained in Europe, travelling over many lands 
 anywhere, everywhere away from his own, un- 
 happy thoughts. 
 
 He had, within the last month, been recalled home 
 to take charge of a difficult law case. 
 
 Regularly, once a month, Conchita heard from 
 him a pressed flower, a cluster of ferns, a new 
 book, a tender poem, a rare engraving never a 
 letter reached her from time to time. 
 
 She makes no sign, though she passionately kisses 
 the address his hand had written, and lays each
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 101 
 
 one tenderly away among his few treasured 
 letters. 
 
 Viva writes long, gay epistles, full of her happy 
 home life ; numerous gaieties ; what a dear good 
 fellow Harry is ; " actually my dear, he really grows 
 better with time, and is as devoted as ever. 
 
 " But you you headstrong piece I shall never 
 forgive you if you keep up that art craze any 
 longer. 
 
 " What do you mean by it anyhow ? Have you 
 and my respected uncle quarreled ? You must 
 have some grave reason for acting in this cold- 
 blooded way. If he was'nt the best man in the 
 world (Harry excepted) he would not stand such 
 treatment ! 
 
 " Here he has been over a month and I am sure 
 hasn't heard a word from you for when I ask, he 
 assumes his most freezing manner and I wilt com- 
 pletely. 
 
 " Mania, I know, makes it hot for him. She is eter- 
 nally tormenting me to know' if I noticed any dis- 
 agreement between you the idea of two such de- 
 voted people quarrelling on their wedding tour ! 
 
 " But really, 'Chita, all nonsense aside, 1 wish 
 you would come home. I know Uncle needs you, 
 though he would die before he'd complain. I do be- 
 lieve he is turning grey he looks so worn and tired 
 all the time. 
 
 " You know, dear, its a woman's duty to look 
 after her husband. 
 
 " Do you think I would leave my Harry ? No in- 
 deed ! Neither art nor science, fashion, nor any 
 other craze could make us part voluntarily ! " 
 
 "Alas !" thinks Conchita, "'How little she knows
 
 102 CONCHITA. 
 
 of my fearful struggle ; but ' break my heart, for I 
 must hold my tongue.' " 
 
 Exhibition day at last arrives, and 'Chita's de- 
 light is unbounded when she sees her picture well 
 hung, and attracting general attention. 
 
 No joy can exceed the exquisite thrill of rapture 
 which fills the breast of a real artist on seeing the 
 creatures of his hand and brain, appreciated by ca- 
 pable critics. It is pure, elevating, ecstatic for a 
 time. 
 
 "Madame," says an obsequious picture dealer, 
 " what will you take for your painting ?" 
 
 "It is not for sale," she answers quietly. 
 
 "But," he persists, "Madame may command her 
 own price a wealth Spaniard desires it much, and 
 cares not for money !" 
 
 "I shall not sell," she returns decidedly. 
 
 Bowing politely, he departs, but returns in a few 
 minutes, saying : 
 
 " Pardon, Madame, Monsieur, the Spaniard, in- 
 sists ! He implores madame to grant an interview. 
 Is it so ? Madame is gracious ? Merci Madame !" 
 
 Away he hurries, returning, shortly with our old 
 friend, Don Henrique Gonzalez. 
 
 "Ah," she exclaims, giving her hand, "what a 
 delightful surprise ! " 
 
 "Many thanks, dear senorita! The joy is mine. 
 Never did I dream of such bliss as meeting you here ! 
 Ah ! I see you, too, look upon the picture I covet. Is 
 it not fair Mexico ? And see, the face is your very 
 own ! I want it much, I must have it but my 
 agents say the artist is obdurate ! I must have it 
 your beautiful face ! though, I despair ! lead on !" to 
 his guide, " 1 will return, senorita, I go to implore 
 this cold-hearted painl r ! Adios !"
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 103 
 
 " You need not go," she says, with a smile. " It 
 is myself you seek." 
 
 " You senorita ? Then indeed, I despair ? " 
 
 "Not so. I cannot dispose of this it has been 
 my very life but you shall have a faithful copy." 
 
 " Many, many thanks, sweet senorita ! I am 
 your slave ! Your goodness is beyond compare. 
 But I knew not you were in Europe. Your gay 
 young friend, and your grave guardian, are they 
 not with you ?" 
 
 "No senor, I am alone." 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 " Yes ; I have been here two years, studying 
 art." 
 
 "Two years, and I knew it not !" then, admiring 
 the beautifully finished work before him, " Senorita 
 is a great artist ! She will be famous, sought after, 
 admired ! But oh, beloved senorita, leave it all and 
 fly with me to sunny Spain my castle shall be your 
 fairy bower I, your slave ! Come, sweet lady, 
 come with me !" 
 
 " Hush, senor, I implore you ! do you not know 
 have you not heard that that I am already 
 married ?" 
 
 " Senorita, torture me not ! You only try me is 
 it so ?" 
 
 " No, clear, kind friend, it is true." 
 
 " And your husband you love him much you 
 are happy." 
 
 "Senor, if you really love me, ask no questions." 
 
 " Ah, he is a brute ! Where is he ? Him I will 
 kill !'' fiercely. 
 
 " No, dear friend, you cannot understand. He is 
 -jrand, noble and I love him devotedly I"
 
 104 CONCHITA. 
 
 " But you are not happy," looking long into her 
 sad eyes. 
 
 " I cannot explain," sadly. 
 
 " Senorita, you suffer tell me all! I am no 
 longer your lover but your faithful friend, your 
 slave ! Let me help you." 
 
 "Thank you, my noble friend. God alone can 
 help me." 
 
 They converse long and earnestly, and, as she 
 rises to return to her lodgings, he hands her his 
 card, saying, " I shall not intrude, senorita, will 
 not follow to your home ; but, if you need me, send 
 to this address. I will fly to you instantly. 
 
 They say farewell, and she turns slowly homeward. 
 
 In crossing the boulevard St. Germain, she sees a 
 woman knocked down by a runaway team. A 
 policeman picks up the unfortunate victim, and a 
 knot of idlers gathers round. 
 
 Conchita, prompted by a passing curiosity, joins 
 the circle just as the policeman asks : 
 
 "Does anyone know this woman?" 
 
 " I do," she answers quietly, "it is Blanchette 
 the actress. Call a cab, please, I will take her to my 
 own rooms." 
 
 "She is a connection a sister?" glancing from 
 one handsome face to another. 
 
 " A connection," she says promply, fearing she 
 
 will be taken to the hospital. "Bring Dr. to 
 
 this address," giving her card to a newsboy, " and 
 you shall be well paid." 
 
 The doctor, who arrives shortly after the sufferer 
 has been put to bed, looks very grave after his ex- 
 amination. He finally shakes his head, says some- 
 thing about " concussion of the brain," gives a few 
 instructions, and bows himself out.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 105 
 
 At last Blanchette opens her eyes, and, seeing 
 the pitiful looks of her faithful nurse, exclaims in 
 wonder : 
 
 " Ah, the sweet innocent ! But where am I 
 what is the matter with my poor head ? Ah ?" as 
 memory returns, " those dreadful horses !" 
 
 " You must be quiet," interrupts 'Chita, "Talking 
 will make your head worse." 
 
 " So this is a hospital, and you my nurse is it so ? 
 Ha ! ha ! what happiness to be so tended. But 
 where is our grave husband ? What pain he would 
 suffer to see poor Blanchette so helpless ! Ah, the 
 pain, the pain ! I suffer ! Give me morphine, 
 chloral, anything to ease this torture !" 
 
 Conchita sends again for the doctor, but he only 
 shakes his head and tells the young nurse her 
 charge is beyond help. 
 
 " She will surely die before morning, Madame I 
 can only deaden the pain with opiates. No human 
 power can save her." 
 
 'You are positively certain of this?" 
 
 " I would stake my reputation, Madam," proudly 
 "she will probably die at midnight." 
 
 Conchita, true to her Catholic training, makes an 
 effort to save this poor soul. 
 
 "Blanchette," she says gently, "you are very 
 ill. Let me send for a priest." 
 
 " Ha ! ha !" laughs the sufferer, " I shall not die ! 
 No, sweet innocent, I care not for your priest 
 opium, give me opium and peace ! Haste ! or this 
 awful pain will kill me. Doctor, you I implore - 
 opium or I die]" 
 
 The physician administers an opiate and retires. 
 
 Blanchette, still watched by 'Chita, slumbers 
 uneasily.
 
 106 CONCHITA. 
 
 As the little Swiss clock chimes the solemn hour 
 of midnight, her restless, unruly spirit passes 
 quietly into the great beyond. 
 
 * 
 
 Earnest Greyson, as he sits in his law office, cer- 
 tainly looks older, and graver, than when we last 
 saw him. His rich brown curls are slightly 
 sprinkled with grey, and a few wrinkles of care 
 have formed about both mouth and eyes. Now that 
 he is alone, a look of sadness settles over his face. 
 
 "Cablegram, sir," says a messenger boy," any 
 answer ?" 
 
 He opens it leisurely, but starts hurriedly to his 
 feet as he reads : 
 
 PARIS, - . 
 
 "Come at once. CONCHITA." 
 
 "Yes," he answers, looking hurriedly over the 
 time-table of the Ocean Steamship Co. Finding 
 what he wants, he writes rapidly, 
 
 " Will start in two hours. EARNEST." 
 
 Let us skip the tiresome voyage, filled with such 
 mingled hope and fear rapture that she should 
 want, should send for him anxiety for her welfare. 
 Why had she sent? was she ill perhaps dying, and 
 h,e so far away ? could it be - 
 
 Time moves on "leaden wings," but the train 
 finally . reaches bright, beautiful Paris, and a well 
 paid cab-man soon deposits him at "Chita's door. 
 
 "Yes, Madame is in her atelier," the polite con- 
 cierge informs him. "This way, monsieur. Per- 
 haps monsieur wants to see Madame's picture ? See, 
 here is the doer what name shall I announce ? 
 What? Monsieur is a friend of Madanio's? Ah, 
 merci! monsieur !" as he drops a coin into her will- 
 ing hand.
 
 A MEXICAN ROMANCE. 107 
 
 He opens the door noiselessly. 
 
 There she stands, under the skylight, her white 
 dress well covered by her long painter's apron, 
 busily working on the Don's picture. 
 
 He watches her a moment, then as she lay aside 
 her brushes, hangs her palette upon her easel-peg, 
 and steps back to criticise her work, he opens his 
 arms, and cries : 
 
 " Conchita, my darling ! come to me !" 
 
 With a glad cry she nestles in his arms and is 
 pressed close, close to his heart. 
 
 " You wanted me ?" he asks. 
 
 "She is dead," she whispers softly. 
 
 " Thank God " he cries reverently, " nothing can 
 part us again." 
 
 END.
 
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