a race will be born worthy of California. Why are our few great men so
very great to us? What have men of exceptional talent to fight down in
the Californias except the barriers to its development? In England or
the United States they still would be great men,--Alvarado and Castro,
at least,--but they would have to work harder."

Chonita, in spite of her disapproval and her blood, looked at him
with interest. His ideas and language were strikingly unlike the
sentimental rhetoric of the caballeros.

"It is as you say," she admitted; "but the Californian's highest duty
is loyalty to his country. Ours is a double duty, isolated as we are
on this far strip of land, away from all other civilization. We should
be more contemptible than Indians if we were not true to our flag."

"No wonder that you and that famous patriot of ours, Doña Eustaquia
Ortega, are bonded friends. I doubt if you could hate as well as she.
You have no such violence in your nature; you could neither love nor
hate very hard. You would love (if you loved at all) with majesty and
serenity, and hate with chili severity." While he spoke he watched her
intently.

She met his gaze unflinchingly. "True, señor; I am no 'bundle of
shallow emotions,' nor have I a lion in me, like Eustaquia. I am a
creature of deliberation, not of impulse: I love and hate as duty
dictates."

"You are by nature the most impulsive woman I ever saw," he said, much
amused, "and Eustaquia's lion is a kitten to the one that sleeps in
you. You have cold deliberation enough, but it is manufactured, and