"It is true," said Don Jose, with a heavy sigh, as
he had a fleeting vision of Dona Ignacia, slim and
lovely, at the grating, with a rose in her hair. "But
this tremendous passion of the heart--it passes,
senor, it passes. We love the good wife, but we
sometimes realize that we could have loved another
good wife as well."

"That is a bit of philosophy I should have uttered
myself, Commandante--yesterday. But there are
women and women, and your daughter is one of the
chosen few who take from the years what the years
take from others. I am not rushing into matri-
mony for the sake of a pair of black eyes and a fine
figure. I have outlived the possibility of making a
fool of myself if I would. Before I realized how
deeply I loved your daughter I had deliberately
chosen her out of all the women I have known, as
my friend and companion for the various and diffi-
cult ways of life which I shall be called upon to
follow. Your daughter will have a high place at
the Russian Court, and she will occupy it as nat-
urally as if I had found her in Madrid and you in
the great position to which your attainments and
services entitle you."

Don Jose, despite his consternation, titillated
agreeably. He privately thought no one in New
Spain good enough for his daughter, and his