"You have been frank with me. I will be the same with you. Fate brought me to far-away California. I chanced to meet the one who from the first filled my heart, my soul. I sang beneath her window. She laughed. Sometimes I thought she encouraged me. Sometimes, again, she flouted me. Nevertheless, I dared hope she cared for me. Now I know she did not." The Captain paused in thought. The señora did not speak. Finally Morando continued: "More than once I tried to tell her I loved her, but she held me at arm's length. The night of the baile, at Mission San José, I believed my opportunity had come. She listened to me, favorably I was sure; but there was an interruption from her partner for the next dance. When again she was alone I pressed my suit. It was in vain. She seemed changed--offended. Yesterday I was at her father's house. I talked with her. At first she listened most graciously; then, in some way, I offended her still more. I am speaking of the Señorita Carmelita Mendoza, señora." "Captain," came slowly from the señora, "we were speaking the other day of the face of the window pane in old Pilar Convent." "I shall never forget, my dear señora." "That face called in you to the primeval love every man has for an ideal woman. For her your heart had been unconsciously searching. The Señorita Mendoza seemed to you to fulfill that ideal. You went to her with words of love. She could not reciprocate. Does it not mean that you must look beyond the beautiful child of Señor Mendoza for the realization of your heart's desires?" Morando looked straight at the señora. "Señora Valentino, I love the Señorita Mendoza with every fiber of my being. I shall never cease to love her. I could not bear to stay here and see her the wife of another man. Therefore I have resolved to go away. "But, my dear Captain, time has worked wonders. It may do so for you." Morando shook his head. "Nothing can alter my love for the señorita doña." "Ah, Captain! You believe that the señorita doña fulfills your ideal; yet you cannot wed her. There may be another destined to fit into the high place to which you, not knowing, have called this child. Think, my friend, may it not be so?" "It cannot be. Señora Valentino, now that I have lost Señorita Mendoza, the memory-pictures of her come to me with tenfold intensity. I saw her, as if near me, on the battlefield. I dreamed of her in the short hours of sleep that have been mine since I last saw her. Yes, dear friend, even now, as you sit by, with words of comfort for me, I see plainly the face and form of Carmelita Mendoza. She seems even more present to me than are you." The señora arose. He stood beside her. "I thank you for listening to me. Wheresoever I may be I shall never forget you." "Let us again be seated." "Thank you, señora."