The Squatter and the Don. María Amparo Ruiz de Burton

your terms, but how little your courage,” said Victoriano, derisively.

      “I admit that I always dread to face squatters,” said Rosario.

      “I think I said that the Darrells are not to be considered squatters nor called so by any Alamar, and I repeat that such is my wish. Moreover, not every settler is necessarily a squatter,” said Don Mariano.

      “I beg pardon. I forgot that,” said Rosario.

      “Don't do it again, Rosy Posy, don't,” said Victoriano, rising from the table, stroking his sister's back as if to pacify a fractious colt. Then going to a window, said: “Mercedes come here. Look at that; isn't that fountain lovely?”

      In the front garden of the Darrell house, opposite to the front door and surrounded by flowers and choice plants, Clarence had erected a fountain which was to emit its numerous jets of chrystaline water for the first time, when his mother should drive up to the door. She had done so, and the fountain was sending upwards its jets of diamonds under the rays of the reflectors at the front door. The effect was pretty and brilliant. Clarence's filial love was sweetly expressed in the music of the fountain.

      CHAPTER IX.—Clarence is the Bearer of Joyful News.

       Table of Contents

      The Darrell family had been the happy dwellers of their fine house on the Alamar rancho for nearly two months, and the three Misses Holman had been the guests of the Alamar family for the same length of time, and now the month of September, 1872, had arrived.

      The awnings at the east and south side of the front veranda were down, and in that deliciously cool place, the favorite resort of the Alamar ladies, they now sat with their guests—the Holmans—engaged in different kinds of fancy work, the greater portion of which was intended to be wedding presents for Elvira and Lizzie Mechlin, who were to be married in a few months.

      Mercedes was the only one not at work. She was reclining on a hammock, reading.

      “Arn't you going to work anything for the girls, Mercedes?” Rosario inquired.

      “Which girls?” Mercedes asked, with her eyes fixed on her book.

      “Lizzie and Elvira, of course,” Rosario answered.

      “I will when the wedding day is fixed.”

      “It will soon be, when George arrives,” Doña Josefa said.

      “That will be time enough for my work,” said Mercedes, looking from her book down the valley, towards the Darrell house, as if casually observing from under the awning the green meadows below.

      “What made you come here? The back veranda is entirely shaded, and much cooler. I have been waiting for you there. Pshaw!” said Victoriano, coming forward and stretching open a hammock to throw himself into it.

      “Had we known that, we would all have rushed there,” said Corina Holman.

      “In a perfect stampede,” added Rosario.

      “I thought you had gone with your father,” Doña Josefa said.

      “No, he said he might stay to lunch at aunt's. It is too hot a day to be riding about in the sun.”

      “Certainly, after having been in the moon for two months the change of temperature might hurt you,” said Amelia Holman.

      “That's a fact; I have been in the moon ever since you came,” assented Victoriano.

      “Your moon stays in the valley, it doesn't rise to this level,” said Amelia.

      “It is a lovely moon wherever it may shine. I say, Baby, won't you go with me to the Darrells this evening?” asked he, addressing Mercedes, who had made no reply, for the reason that she had just seen Clarence coming on horseback, and, as usual, when any one spoke of him, or she unexpectedly saw him, she found it necessary to take a little time, in order to steady her voice, which otherwise might betray her heart's tumult.

      “Mercedes' French novel must be very interesting,” Carlota said.

      “It is not a novel—it is French History,” said Madam Halier.

      “Mercedes, Tano wants you to escort him this evening,” said Rosario. “Will you take him?”

      “Where?” Mercedes asked, without moving.

      “To the moon,” said Corina.

      “She means to the third heaven,” rejoined Victoriano.

      “I declare, the God of Love is truly miraculous. I think it could even poetize the Pittikin girls, or the Hughes, in Tano's opinion,” said Carlota.

      “Talk of the angels, and you hear the clatter of their hoofs,” said Rosario; “there he is at the gate.”

      “This awning is too low—we don't see people until they are upon us,” said Carlota.

      “I am off. I suppose he will stay to lunch, that will give me all I want of his charming society,” said Rosario, rising to go as Clarence dismounted at the gate.

      “Stay, he has seen us all; it would be discourteous to leave now,” said Doña Josefa, and Rosario remained.

      Victoriano jumped out of the hammock to meet Clarence.

      “Hallo, yourself and welcome! Any news?”

      “Yes, big news,” Clarence replied, blushing crimson—not at the news he brought, as one might have supposed—but because he had just seen two little feet, in a tiny pair of slippers, with blue rosettes, which he well knew. These little blue rosettes had set his heart to beating, sending more than the normal amount of blood to his head.

      On leaving her hammock to take a chair Mercedes had shown those tantalizing tip ends of her slippers, half hidden in a mass of lace ruffles. That was all, and yet poor Clarence was disconcerted, and became more and more so, on perceiving that there were not less than nine ladies on that veranda; nine pairs of eyes which had undoubtedly observed his own, devouring the blue rosettes.

      “What is the news, pray? Don't kill us with suspense,” pleaded Miss Corina Holman.

      “The news is that Colonel Scott has arrived at San Francisco, and will be in San Diego next week.”

      “Hurrah,” shouted Victoriano, “now we'll all be rich.”

      “How do you make that out?” Rosario asked.

      “Never mind how, we'll not go into particulars.”

      “No, better not,” Rosario advised.

      “Papa will be so glad to hear this news,” said Mercedes, “and Mr. Holman, also. He'll come down now, will he not?”

      “Yes, father will come down with Col. Scott, and may be build us a house right away,” said Amelia.

      “There is papa now; I am so glad,” Mercedes exclaimed.

      “I must run with the news to him,” said Victoriano, rushing madly through the hall, to the patio, or court, where Don Mariano had just dismounted.

      The news was so gladdening to Don Mariano, that he came immediately to propose to the young ladies to have a dance that evening.

      “But where are the gentlemen? There are plenty of ladies, but unless you invite squatters”—Rosario began, but Doña Josefa stopped her with a look.

      “Let us see,” said Don Mariano, counting on his fingers, “there are three or four Darrells, and six or eight Alamares, if my brothers and half of my nephews come. That ought to be enough, I think.”

      “Plenty. I'll send a vaquero to aunt's to call the boys, and you bring your brothers and sisters, Clarence,” said Victoriano.

      “With