Concha had sent her father away deeply puzzled.
When, after embracing her with unusual emotion,
he had informed her of his consent to her marriage,
she had received the news as a matter of course,
her hopes and desires having mounted too high to
contemplate a fall. Then the Commandante, after
dwelling at some length upon his discussions with
the Governor and the priests, and admonishing her
against conceiving herself too important a factor in
what might prove to be an alliance of international
moment (she had laughed merrily and called him
the most callous of parents and subtlest of diplo-
mats), had announced with some trepidation and his
most official manner that the consent of the Pope
and the King would be sought by Rezanov in per-
son, involving a delay and separation of not less
than two years. But to his surprise she did not fling
herself upon his neck with blandishments and tears.
She merely became quite still, her light high spirits
retreating as a breeze might before one of Nature's
sudden and portentous calms. Don Jose, after a
fruitless attempt to recapture her interest, mounted
his horse and rode away; and Concha sat down on
a bench under the wall and thought for an hour
without moving a finger.

Her first sensation was one of bitter anger and
disappointment with Rezanov. He had, apparently,
in the first brief interview with their tribunal, given