"She--she was a cousin of Don Eduardo, and now she is married again--and she visits us, and her husband is some kind of engineer to make railroads, and mines, and--" A pinch from Dolores stopped her this time, but it was very clumsily done, Dona Luisa saw it. "Ah," she said, quietly; "and when is he to bring the railroad of the Americanos to the Californias, eh?" The women and girls stared at each other. "I--I cannot tell her," murmured Madalena to Jacoba; "you speak! Of course it is not Dona Angela's husband who does it, but--the railroad does come--so they say." "Why do you whisper, and not speak aloud?" demanded Dona Luisa, putting aside the hand of Raquel, who tried to quiet her rising resentment. "Is there not anyone here to speak plainly, and the truth? What is it you try to hide from me?" "Oh, Luisa," begged Jacoba, tearfully, "do not make of this a thing to trouble you! No one tries really to hide things; it is not here the railroad is to be first; it is only talk; it may never happen--it may--" "Where?" demanded Dona Luisa. And Jacoba, with tears in her eyes, confessed having heard of the impertinence of the Americanos, who meant to build a new road of their own instead of the wagon trail to San Antonio. "That was good enough for our fathers. What is now wrong with the San Antonio road?" "Not anything, of course; but the government--" "Ah ha!" and the old voice lifted to a shrill note of triumph in having at last found the key of the question. "The American government! I thought that would be it. What new crime do they plan against the Californias? This it is to grow old and lame--they would hide it from me! Speak, and tell me all! Does the fine new government want my home to quarter their pigs of soldiers in, as they did in the Mission in other days? And would my friends have hidden it from me until these upstarts were across my door?" "Luisa--chulita--you were not well. Rafael said you were not to be told; but since you think we mean to speak falsely, or deceive you--" "Where is it to come? How near?" Dona Luisa was not to be led an iota from the main question. But at her demand, Jacoba tried to speak, and failed, and could only weep noisily at the hardness in her old cousin's tones. "Why do you make Aunt Jacoba weep like that?" demanded Ana, resentfully. "What has she to do with the railroads--she or her family? Your good Rafael does more to bring them than any one else. He sells them land; he and Don Eduardo help them to get the rights to go where they please. Aunt Jacoba would not do that; her father and her husband would be burned at the stake before they would help these new people to use the graves of the holy fathers at San Gabriel as a road-bed!" "Mother of God!" Dona Luisa arose, as though to annihilate the daring speaker; but Raquel caught her and she sank back in her chair with one tremulous hand extended to the frightened Ana.