"No, sir! Long ago, when I was twelve, I made a vow I would never write to a man. I never break that vow." "Thou wilt break it for me, Eulogia." "And why for you, señor? Half the trouble in the world has been made on paper." "Oh, thou wise one! What trouble can a piece of paper make when it lies on a man's heart?" "It can crackle when another head lies on it." "No head will ever lie here but--" "Mine?" "Eulogia!" "To thee, Señorita Doña Eulogia," cried a deep voice. "May the jewels in thine eyes shine by the stars when thou art above them. May the tears never dim them while they shine for us below," and a caballero pushed back his chair, leaned forward, and touched her glass with his, then went down on one knee and drank the red wine. Eulogia threw him a little absent smile, sipped her wine, and went on talking to Ignestria in her soft monotonous voice. "My friend--Graciosa La Cruz--went a few weeks ago to Monterey for a visit. You will tell her I think of her, no?" "I will dance with her often because she is your friend--until I return to San Luis Obispo." "Will that be soon, señor?" "I told thee that would be as soon as thou wished. Thou wilt answer my letter--promise me, Eulogia." "I will not, señor. I intend to be wiser than other women. At the very least, my follies shall not burn paper. If you want an answer, you will return." "I will _not_ return without that answer. I never can see thee alone, and if I could, thy coquetry would not give me a plain answer. I must see it on paper before I will believe." "Thou canst wait for the day of resurrection for thy knowledge, then!" V Once more Aunt Anastacia rolled her large figure through Eulogia's doorway and handed her a letter. "From Don Pablo Ignestria, my baby," she said. "Oh, what a man! what a caballero! And so smart. He waited an hour by the creek in the mission gardens until he saw thy mother go out, and then he brought the note to me. He begged to see thee, but I dared not grant that, niñita, for thy mother will be back in ten minutes." "Go downstairs and keep my mother there," commanded Eulogia, and Aunt Anastacia rolled off, whilst her niece with unwonted nervousness opened the letter.