horse-breaking and the branding. The servants' quarters
overflowing. Parker cowboys in from everywhere. And all the girls
from Waimea up, and the girls from Waipio, and Honokaa, and
Paauilo--I can see them yet, sitting in long rows on top the stone
walls of the breaking pen and making leis" (flower garlands) "for
their cowboy lovers. And the nights, the perfumed nights, the
chanting of the meles and the dancing of the hulas, and the big
Mana grounds with lovers everywhere strolling two by two under the
trees.

"And the Prince . . . " Bella paused, and for a long minute her
small fine teeth, still perfect, showed deep in her underlip as she
sought and won control and sent her gaze vacantly out across the
far blue horizon. As she relaxed, her eyes came back to her
sister.

"He was a prince, Martha. You saw him at Kilohana before . . .
after you came home from seminary. He filled the eyes of any
woman, yes, and of any man. Twenty-five he was, in all-glorious
ripeness of man, great and princely in body as he was great and
princely in spirit. No matter how wild the fun, how reckless mad
the sport, he never seemed to forget that he was royal, and that
all his forebears had been high chiefs even to that first one they
sang in the genealogies, who had navigated his double-canoes to
Tahiti and Raiatea and back again. He was gracious, sweet, kindly
comradely, all friendliness--and severe, and stern, and harsh, if
he were crossed too grievously. It is hard to express what I mean.
He was all man, man, man, and he was all prince, with a strain of
the merry boy in him, and the iron in him that would have made him
a good and strong king of Hawaii had he come to the throne.