"The 1st January leaves not many days to wait now, and we are ready. In future years we shall look back upon that day as a great epoch in the history of the Argentine people. Upon you, Don Cornelio, depends the present welfare and the future greatness of a young nation; to you our country entrusts her destinies in the most critical moment of her existence." So saying, and looking fixedly upon Don Cornelio Saavedra, Evaña bowed to him with great solemnity and retired. "The ideas of the Señora Evaña," said Don Fausto Velasquez, laughing. "When shall we see the end of them?" "In this the Señor Evaña is not mistaken," said Don Gregorio Lopez. "May God help you, Don Cornelio, and remember that where you go you have an entire people behind you, who have placed their destinies in your hands." * * * * * Three days after this, as Captain Asneiros returned to his quarters after an early drill and inspection, he found a young slave waiting for him with a message from Doña Josefina Viana, who requested him to call upon her that evening without fail. The swarthy face of the Spaniard brightened with pleasure as he listened to the words of the little negro, but: "It is well, you can go," was all his answer. In the evening twilight Doña Josefina, dressed in a graceful negligée fashion well suited to the season, sat in a low chair beside one of the windows of her sala, which was thrown wide open, gazing out into the street. Young men as they passed doffed their hats, bowing lowly, and many of them paused, hoping that the graceful head which answered their salute with a gentle inclination might bend yet further forward and speak, and so give them an excuse for loitering there leaning against the iron bars, and talking for a few minutes. If any such favour had been granted to any of them they would have strutted off after exchanging a few conventional phrases, with the feeling that a great honour had been bestowed upon them, of which they might speak with great access of personal dignity in whatever social circle they might spend the rest of the evening. Men of mature years who passed that window were even more eager and obsequious than the young men in their manner of salutation, but after one glance at the figure reclining there behind the iron reja, enveloped in clouds of gauzy muslin, half shaded from view by the light curtains which draped the window, they passed on without any pause, perchance muttering to themselves: "She awaits some one, our queen of the saloons, who may that fortunate be?"