"You certainly are able to fan yourself; but it is no reflection upon your muscle. It is only a custom we have." "Then I think much better you no have the custom. You no look like a man at all when you fan like a girl." He handed her back the fan with some choler. "Really, señorita, you are very frank. I suppose you would have a man lie in a hammock all day and roll cigaritos." "Much better do that than take what no is yours." "Which no American ever did!" "Excep' when he pulled California out the pocket de Mexico." "And what did Mexico do first? Did she not threaten the United States with hostilities for a year, and attack a small detachment of our troops with a force of seven thousand men--" "No make any difference what she do. Si she do wrong, that no is excuse for you do wrong." Two angry young people faced each other. "You steal our country and insult our men. But they can fight, Madre de Dios! I like see General Castro take your little Commodore Sloat by the neck. He look like a little gray rat." "Commodore Sloat is a brave and able man, Miss Ortega, and no officer in the United States navy will hear him insulted." "Then much better you lock up the ears." "My dear Captain Russell! Benicia! what is the matter?" Mr. Larkin stood before them, an amused smile on his thin intellectual face. "Come, come, have we not met to-night to dance the waltz of peace? Benicia, your most humble admirer has a favour to crave of you. I would have my countrymen learn at once the utmost grace of the Californian. Dance El Jarabe, please, and with Don Fernando Altimira." Benicia lifted her dainty white shoulders. She was not unwilling to avenge herself upon the American by dazzling him with her grace and beauty. Her eye's swift invitation brought Don Fernando, scowling, to her side. He led her to the middle of the room, and the musicians played the stately jig.