The herald., 1896-03-15
Written for THE HERALD,
CHAPTER "

hospitality which the Mexican always
shows to strangers. Our American
boys were soon content to settle in
California, among these good hearted,
generous people, and most of the
soldiers, as we'll as the officers, married
dark-eyed senoritas. Among the mar
risgeable daughters of those good old
days none was considered just such a
s'catch" as Juana Maria. She was con-
Bidered by all a woman of intellect
and character, as we'll as of rare
beauty, and last. but not least, she was
to be the heiress of the
tprincely estate of Don Antonio Maria.
Young Winter received congratula-
tions from all his companions on his
success at being chosen by her father
as an acknowledged suitor, and at the
encouraging way Juana received him.
His cause prospered, and although
there was really no engagement be-
tween them, their hearts told each
sother what the lips failed to say. Win
ter commenced borrowing money
fright and left, for his credit among his
fellows was good, and he was even
pressed by some of them to accept
money, for they all relied on his future
prospects.
lis he not going to marry the rich
est heiress in Los Angeles?" they said.
Nothing was too good for Winter; he
was a nail fellow we ll-met, and in his
conceit regarding himself quite supe-
rior to common people. This disposi-
ton developed wonderfully under
these circumstances.
Finally one day he and Juana we're
seated in the pleasant summer house,
which was a bower of roses, and was
situated in the choicest and most Sc
cluded part of the garden. Juana was
more gracious, it seemed to him, that
lovely evening; she had played on the
guitar to him and sang several beauti-
full Spanish airs with the voice of an
angel, while little Anita, who was list
snin1 to her mothers sweet music, had
fallen asleep with her face resting
against Juenas knee, her little hand
pressed against one rosy cheek, while
her long, black, silky curls fell in
clusters over her shoulders. Juana
looked at the sleeping child with so
much tender pride and affection, and
stroked her pretty head with such a
soft, caressing touch, that Winter felt
. spark Of jealousy and hate growing
for the innocent child.
Cold beautiful Juana had never
shown him such love; had not even al
lowed him to kiss her cneek, but only
to touch her finger tips to his lips
when he bade her adieu. Hate reigned
within him for the child, yet outwardly
he professed the most tender affection
for the little one, who had grown quite
fond of the tall handsome man. She
was a. child of remarkable beauty, her
face being like that of her father, her
disposition that of her mother Win
ter made up his mind then and there
to have the question settled. He would
declare his love in the most touching
and impressive manner he could mus
ter, and take the chances.
He had dream the night before and
it had been in his mind all day, as
good omen. He thought of no better
way of opening the subject to Juana,
than to relate his pleasant and remark
able dream. He first asked her il she
would like to hear it, "Ihis afternoon
has brought it back 80 wildly to my
to be superstitious about it, and to be-
lieve have seen my future wife in my
dream. What do you think of dreams
"Of course, there are dreams, and
Dreams" said Juana.
II understand that, Juana, but |
mean dream that makes you think
you see its scenes, like a ghost before
you, for days and weeks.
"Don Robert she said, looking up
at him shyly as if guessing the meaning
OF what he was about to relate to her,
"Don Robert, / too have had dreams
like those of which you speak. They
have impressed me so much that they
have figured largely in my life for
years, yet perhaps they do not signify
much, if anything"
II will tell you my dream if you will
permit me, then you can tell me better
what you think OF it,"
II shall be delighted to hear it, please
20 on
She laid her guitar at her side and
folded her hands thoughtfully in her
lap, prepared to listen.
II dreamed i sat out in the garden
of house that overlooked beautiful
valley" said Winter, "beyond we're the
blue waters of the Pacific ocean
II bad not sat there long before a
lady whose complexion was fair and
comely as picture drew near me,
holding in her hand guitar. Without
apparently noticing me she began play
ing. Her voice, as it accompanied that
of the instrument, was as seductive as
the opiate from the leaves Of the lotus
Its melody lulled me into sense of
dreamy bliss, which reminded me OF
nothing 80 much as what the music of
angels might be.
"She looked like an angel herself, as
she sat in the golden twilight and sang
with the voice of a siren. Every soul
within hearing was melted by
its charms, and the friendly birds in
the roseate glow Of the fading sun
light, which trembled in the foliage
overhead, trilled the responsive RET rain.
Her music charmed every animate
thing to retrospective and happy si-
lence.
"The old clock in the cathedral tower
had just .rung out the hour of 8.
Through the branches of the cypress
trees the first sJreaks from the red gold
moon were seen. The mellow rays grad
ually grew brighter, until the heavily
hung leaves shone with golden sheen
in which they trembled with JOY. The
gentle night wind laden with the per-
fume of orange blossoms, the aroma of
the eucalyptus and the green bay y,whis-
pered half audible words through the
vines that clustered about my head.
'The moon rose higher and higher,
until now it was above the treetops on
tho neighboring hill causing the earth