"Ay!" exclaimed Chonita. "Why canst thou not be more sincere, my brother? Hospitality did not compel thee to say so much to thine enemy. Couldst thou not have spoken a few simple words like himself, and not blackened thy soul?" "My sister! thou never spokest to me so harshly before. And on my marriage eve!" "Forgive me, my most beloved brother. Thou knowest I love thee. But it grieves me to think that even hospitality could make thee false." When they ascended the steps, not a woman was to be seen; all had followed Prudencia to her chamber to see the _donas_ of the groom, which had arrived that day from Mexico. Chonita tarried long enough to see that her father had forgotten the family grievance in his revived susceptibility to Estenega, then went to Prudencia's room. There women, young and old, crowded each other, jabbering like monkeys. The little iron bed, the chairs and tables, every article of furniture, in fact, but the altar in the corner, displayed to advantage exquisite materials for gowns, a mass of elaborate underclothing, a white lace mantilla to be worn at the bridal, lace flounces fine and deep, crêpe shawls, sashes from Rome, silk stockings by the dozen. On a large table were the more delicate and valuable gifts: a rosary of topaz, the cross a fine piece of carving; a jeweled comb; a string of pearls; diamond hoops for the ears; a large pin painted with a head of Guadalupe, the patron saint of California; and several fragile fans. Quite apart, on a little table, was the crown and pride of the _donas_,--six white cobweb-like smocks, embroidered, hemistitched, and deshaladoed. Did any Californian bridegroom forget that dainty item he would be repudiated on his wedding-eve. "God of my life!" murmured Valencia, "he has taste as well as gold. And all to go on that round white doll!" There was little envy among the other girls. Their eyes sparkled with good-nature as they kissed Prudencia and congratulated her. The older women patted the things approvingly; and, between religion, a _donas_ to satisfy an angel, and prospective bliss, Prudencia was the happiest little bride-elect in all The Californias. "Never were such smocks!" cried one of the girls. "Ay! he will make a good husband. That sign never fails." "Thou must wear long, long trains now, my Prudencia, and be as stately as Chonita." "Ay!" exclaimed Prudencia. Did not every gown already made have a train longer than herself? "Thou needst never wear a mended stocking with all these to last thee for years," said another: never had silk stockings been brought to the Californias in sufficient plenty for the dancing feet of its daughters. "I shall always mend my stockings," said Prudencia, "I myself." "Yes," said one of the older women, "thou wilt be a good wife and waste nothing." Valencia laid her arm about Chonita's waist. "I wish to meet Don Diego Estenega," she said. "Wilt thou not present him to me?"