"I should not have made myself so obtrusive to-day before your
friend," said Don Caesar, with proud humility, "but I could not
understand from your mother whether you were alone or whether my
company was desirable. It is of this I have now to speak, Mamie.
Lately your mother has seemed strange to me; avoiding any reference
to our affection; treating it lightly, and even as to-day, I fancy,
putting obstacles in the way of our meeting alone. She was
disappointed at your return from Sacramento where, I have been
told, she intended you to remain until you left the country; and
since your return I have seen you but twice. I may be wrong.
Perhaps I do not comprehend the American mother; I have--who
knows?--perhaps offended in some point of etiquette, omitted some
ceremony that was her due. But when you told me, Mamie, that it
was not necessary to speak to HER first, that it was not the
American fashion--"

Mamie started, and blushed slightly.

"Yes," she said hurriedly, "certainly; but ma has been quite queer
of late, and she may think--you know--that since--since there has
been so much property to dispose of, she ought to have been
consulted."

"Then let us consult her at once, dear child! And as to the
property, in Heaven's name, let her dispose of it as she will.
Saints forbid that an Alvarado should ever interfere. And what is
it to us, my little one? Enough that Dona Mameta Alvarado will
never have less state than the richest bride that ever came to Los
Gatos."