"How could I guess? You never let me see that you were fond of me--or I
have been blind all these years--"

"Hush, child!" he said. "Do not hurt me any more--it must have been my
fault."

He grew more calm, and though his face was very grave and sad, the
natural dark colour was slowly coming back to it now, and his hands were
steady again. The girl was too young, and far too different from him, to
understand his nature, but she was fast realizing that he was not the
man he had always seemed to her.

"Oh, if I had only known!" she cried, in deep distress. "If I had only
guessed, I would have been so different! I was always frightened, always
afraid of you, since I can remember--I thought you did not care for us
and that we always displeased you--how could we know?"

Mendoza lifted one of his hands from the sword hilt, and took hers, with
as much gentleness as was possible to him. His eyes became clear again,
and the profound emotion he had shown subsided to the depths whence it
had risen.

"We shall never quite understand each other," he said quietly. "You
cannot see that it is a man's duty to do what is right for his children,
rather than to sacrifice that in order to make them love him."

It seemed to Dolores that there might be a way open between the two, but
she said nothing, and left her hand in his, glad that he was kind, but
feeling, as he felt, that there could never be any real understanding
between them. The breach had existed too long, and it was far too wide.