Lyon County times. [volume] (Silver City, Nev.) 1874-1907, 1893-05-13

those redwood forests and the ocean
beats against ragged cliffs. But we are
here. At your service, senorita." He
sprang to the whaleboned pavement in
front of the little church facing the blue
bay and surrounded by the gray ruins of
the old Preside and lifted her down.
Chonita took the infant from the
nurses arms and carried it fearfully up
the aisle, side by side with Estenega, who
regarded her meditatively.
"What is she?' he thought, this Cali
fornian woman with her hair Of gold and
her unmistakable intellect, her marble
face crossed now and again by the ami
nation of the clever American woman?
What an anomaly to find on the shores
of the Pacific! All | had heard of The
Doomswoman. The Golden Senorita,
gave me no idea of this. What pity
that our houses are at war! She is not
maternal, at all events. | never saw a
baby held so awl1wardly. What poise
of head! She looks better fitted for TRACE
dy than for this little comedy of life in
the CALIFORNIA;. A sovereignty would
suit her-were it not for her eyes. They
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orable as the rest of her face. She would
not even make good household tyrant,
like Dona Jacoba Duncan.
Unquestionably she is religious and
swaddled in all the traditions of her
race; but her eyes--they are at odds with
all the rest of her. They are not lovely
eyes: they lack softness and languor and
tractability: their expression changes too
often, and they mirror too much intelli-
gence for loveliness, but they never will
be old eyes, and they never will cease to
look And they are the eyes best worth
looking into that l have ever seen. No,
q sovereignty would not suit her at all;
a salon might. But, like few of us,
she is some years ahead of her sphere.
Glory be to the Californias-of the
future, when we are dirt and our chill
dren have found the gold"
The baby was nearly baptized by the
time he had finished his soliloquy. She
had kicked alarmingly when the salt was
laid ON her tongue and squalled under
the deluge of water which gave her her
name and also wet Chonita's sleeve. The
godmother longed for the ceremony to
be over, but it was more protracted than
usual, owing to the Importance of the
restless object on the pillow i'll her weary
arms. When the last word was said she
handed pillow and baby to the nurse
with an eager sigh of relief, which made
her appear girlish and natural.
After Estenega had lifted her to her
horse he dried her sleeve with his hand
kerchief. He fingered over the task; the
cavalcade and populace went on with
out them, and when they started they
were in the rearward Of the blithesome
crowd.
do you know what l thought as !
stood by you in the church," he asked.
No" she said indiiferently. II hope
you prayed for the fortune Of the little
one"
Il did not, nor did you. You were too
afraid you would dropit. Twas thinking
how unmotherly-I had almost said un-
womanly-you looked. You were made
for the great world-the restless world,
where people fly faster from mono:ony
than from tidal wave"
She looked at him with cold dignity,
only, senior, although l confess l do not
understand babies and do detest to sew.
But if ever marry l shall be a good wife
and mother No Spanish woman was
ever otherwise, for every Spanish woman
has had a good mother for example,"
"You have said exactly what you
should have said, voicing the inborn
principles and sentiments Of the Spanish
woman. would be interested to know
what your individual sentiments are,
but you misunderstood me. said that
YOU were too good for the average lot OF
woman. You are woman, not doll;
an intelligence, not bundle of shallow
emotions and transient desires. You
should have larger destiny"
She gave him swift, sidelong flash
from eyes that suddenly looked childish
and eager
ut is true" she said frankly. II have
no desire to marry and have many chill
dren. My father has never said to me,
Thou must marry and l have some
times thought l would say No when
that time came. For the present | am
contented with my books and to rde
about the country on wild horse, but
perhaps-I do not know-I may not al
ways be contented with that. Sometimes
when reading Shakespeare | have mag
ined myself each of those women in turn,
but generally of course have thought
little of being any one but myself. What
else could be herey'
Nothing. excepting a Joan of Arc
when the Americans sweep down upon
us, but that would be only for day.
We would be such easy prey. If could
put you to sleep and awaken you fifty
years hence. when California was a mod
ern civilization God speed the Ameri-
cansl Therein lies our only chance"
"Whatr' she cried. "You-you would
have the Americans? You-a Califor-
miami But you are an Estenega. That
explains everything"
II am Californian, he SAID, ignoring
the scorn of the later words, but hope
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