Estenega threw his bridle to a soldier and went directly to the house.  A servant met him on the veranda and conducted him to his room; it was late, and every one else was dressing for dinner.  He changed his riding-clothes for the evening dress of modern civilization, and went at once to the drawing-room.  Here all was luxury, nothing to suggest the privations of a new country.  A thick red carpet covered the floor, red arras the walls; the music of Mozart and Beethoven was on the grand piano.  The furniture was rich and comfortable, the large carved table was covered with French novels and European periodicals.

The candles had not been brought in, but logs blazed in the open fireplace.  As Estenega crossed the room, a woman, dressed in black, rose from a deep chair, and he recognized Chonita.  He sprang forward impetuously and held out his arms, but she waved him back.

“No, no,” she said, hurriedly.  “I want to explain why I am here.  I came for two reasons.  First, I could refuse the Princess Helene no longer; she goes so soon.  And then—­I wanted to see you once more before I leave the world.”

“Before you do what?”

“I am not going into a convent; I cannot leave my father.  I am going to retire to the most secluded of our ranchos, to see no more of the world or its people.  I shall take my father with me.  Reinaldo and Prudencia will remain at Casa Grande.”

“Nonsense!” he exclaimed, impatiently.  “Do you suppose I shall let you do anything of the sort?  How little you know me, my love!  But we will discuss that question later.  We shall be alone only a few moments now.  Tell me of yourself.  How are you?”

“I will tell you that, also, at another time.”

And at the moment a door opened, and the governor and his wife entered and greeted Estenega with cordial hospitality.  The governor was a fine-looking Russian, with a spontaneous warmth of manner; the princess a woman who possessed both elegance and vivacity, both coquetry and dignity; she could sparkle and chill, allure and suppress in the same moment.  Even here, rough and wild as her surroundings were, she gave much thought to her dress; to-night her blonde harmonious loveliness was properly framed in a toilette of mignonette greens, fresh from Paris.  A moment later Reinaldo and Prudencia appeared, the former as splendid a caballero as ever, although wearing the chastened air of matrimony, the latter pre-maternally consequential.  Then came the officers and their wives, all brilliant in evening dress; and a moment later dinner was announced.

Estenega sat at the right of his hostess, and that trained daughter of the salon kept the table in a light ripple of conversation, sparkling herself, without striking terror to the hearts of her guests.  She and Estenega were old friends, and usually indulged in lively sallies, ending some times in a sharp war of words, for she was a very clever woman; but to-night he gave her absent attention:  he watched Chonita furtively, and thought of little else.