children to push me aside, and it is like a blow on
the heart; but I have neither anger nor resentment,
for it was not the act of a child to its parent, but
of one woman to another. Alas! this Russian, what
has he done, when her own mother can give her no
comfort? We all love when young, but this is more.
I loved Jose so much I thought I should die when
they would have compelled me to marry another.
But this is more. She will not die, nor even go to
bed and weep for days, but it is more. I should
not have died, I know that now, and in time I should
have married another, and been as happy as a wom-
an can be when the man is kind. Concha will love
but once, and she will suffer--suffer-- She may
be more than I, but I bore her and I know. And
she cannot marry him. A heretic! I no longer
think of the terrible separation. Were he a Cath-
olic I should not think of myself again. But it
cannot be. Oh, padre, what shall we do?"

They talked for a long while, and after further
consultation with Don Jose and Father Landaeta,
it was decided that Concha should remain for the
present in the house of Juan Moraga, where she
could receive the daily counsels of the priests, and
be beyond the reach of Rezanov. Meanwhile, all
influence would be brought to bear upon the Gov-
ernor that the Russian might be placated even while
made to realize that to loiter longer in California
waters would be but a waste of precious time.