"I shall take my revenge," said Rezanov shortly;
but the wound closed, and once more he became
aware of the poignant sweetness of Castilian roses.
Concha wore one in her soft dusky hair, and an-
other where the little round jacket of white linen,
gaily embroidered with pink, met on her bosom.
But if sentiment tempted him he was quickly poised
by her next remarks. She uttered them in a low
tone, although the animated conversation of the rest
of the party would have permitted the two on the
sofa to exchange the vows of love unheard.

"But what a practice for your diplomatic talents,
Excellency! Poor California! At least let me be
the first to hear what you have come for?" Her
voice dropped to a soft cooing note, although her
eyes twinkled. "For the love of God, senor! I am
so bored in this life on the edge of the world! To
see the seams and ravelings of a diplomatic in-
trigue! I have read and heard of many, but never
had I hoped to link my finger in anything subtler
than a quarrel between priest and Governor, or the
jealousy of Los Angeles for Monterey. I even will
help you--if you mean no harm to my father or my
country. And I am not a friend to scorn, senor,
for my blessed father is as wax in my hands, the
dear old Governor adores me, and even Padre
Abella, who thinks himself a great diplomat, and
is watching us out of the corner of his eye, while
I make him believe you pay me so many compli-