As the carriage drove off, Helena threw her arms about Magdalena, who was sitting stiffly in the corner. "Oh, darling, dearest!" she exclaimed. "_What_ have I made you go through? And you're so generous, you'll never tell me what a villain I am. But you will forgive me, won't you?" "I am just as much to blame as you are. I was not obliged to go." "But it was dreadful, wasn't it? That horrid low policeman! The idea of his daring to put his hand on my shoulder. But we'll just forget it, and next week, to-morrow, it will be as if it never had happened." Magdalena made no reply. "'Lena!" exclaimed Helena, sharply. "You're never going to own up?" "I must," said Magdalena, firmly. "I've done a wicked thing. I've disobeyed my father, who thinks it's horrible for girls to be on the street even in the daytime alone, and I've nearly disgraced him. I've no right not to tell him. I must!" "That's your crazy old New England conscience! If you were all Spanish, you'd look as innocent as a madonna for a week, and if you were my kind of Californian you'd cheek it and make your elders feel that they were impertinent for taking you to task." "You are half New England." "So I am, but I'm half Southerner, too, and all Californian. I'm just beautifully mixed. You're not mixed at all; you're just hooked together. Come now, say you won't tell him. He's a terror when he gets angry." "I must tell him. I'd never respect myself again if I didn't. I've done lots of other things and didn't tell, but they didn't matter,--that is, not so much. He's got a _right_ to know." "It's a pity you're not more like him, then you wouldn't tell." "What do you mean, Helena? I am sure my father never told a lie." Helena was too generous to tell what she knew. She asked instead, "I wonder would your conscience hurt you so hard if everything had turned out all right, and we were coming home in our own hack?" Magdalena thought a moment. "It might not to-night, but it would to-morrow. I am sure of that," she said. Helena groaned. "You are hopeless. Thank Heaven, I was born without a conscience,--that kind, anyhow. I intend to be a law all to myself. I'm Californian clear through into my backbone." The hack stopped. The girls alighted and walked slowly forward. Mr. Belmont's house was the first of the three. "Well," said Helena, "here we are. I'm going to climb up the pillar and walk along the ledge. How are you going in?" "Through the front door." "Well, if you will, you will, I suppose. Kiss me good-night." Magdalena kissed her and walked on. A half-moment later Helena called after her in a loud whisper,-- "Take off that shawl!" Magdalena lifted her hand to her chin, then dropped it. When she reached her own home, she rang the bell firmly. The Chinaman who opened the door stared at her, the dawn of an expression on his face. "Where is Don Roberto?" she asked. "In loffice, missee."