"I fear that I can stay but a week, señorita. I must return to Los
Angeles."

"Would nothing tempt thee to stay, Don Diego?"

He looked into her rich Southern face and approved of it: when had he
ever failed to approve of a pretty woman? "Thine eyes, señorita, would
tempt a man to forget more than duty."

"And thou wilt stay?"

"When I leave Santa Barbara what I take of myself will not be worth
leaving."

"Ay! and what thou leavest thou never shalt have again."

"There is my hope of heaven, señorita."

He turned from this glittering conversation to Chonita.

"You are a little tired," he said, in a low voice. "Your color has
gone, and the shadows are coming about your eyes."

The suspicion was borne home to her that he must have observed her
closely to detect those shades of difference which no one else had
noted.

"A little, señor. I went to bed late and rose early. Such times as
these tax the endurance. But after a siesta I shall be refreshed."