"Ay, señor! thou must not speak like that. Some one will hear thee."

"I care not! God of my life! I care not! Wilt thou marry me?"

"Thou must not speak to me of marriage, señor. It is to my father thou
must speak. Would I, a Californian maiden, betroth myself without his
knowledge?"

"Holy heaven! I will! But give me one word that thou lovest me,--one
word!"

She lifted her chin saucily and turned to another caballero, who, I
doubt not, proposed also. Estenega, who had watched her, laughed.

"She acts the part to perfection," he said to me. "Either natural or
acquired coquetry has more to do with saving her from the solitary
plane of the intellectual woman than her beauty or her father's
wealth. I am inclined to think that it is acquired. I do not believe
that she is a coquette at heart, any more than that she is the marble
doomswoman she fondly believes herself."

"You will tell her that," I exclaimed, angrily; "and she will end
by loving you because you understand her; all women want to be
understood. Why don't you go to Paris again? You have not been there
for a long time."

Not deeming this suggestion worthy of answer, he left me and walked to
Chonita, who was glancing over the top of her fan into the ardent eyes
of a third caballero.