she soon came to be regarded as a part of four gray walls.  How long it took her to find actual serenity none but herself and the dead priests know, but the old women who are dying off to-day remember her as consistently placid as she was firm.  She was deeply troubled by the escapade of the little wretches on the wall, although she had dealt with it summarily and feared no further outbreak of the sort.  But she was haunted by a suspicion that there was more behind, and to come.  Pilar de la Torre and Eustaquia Carillo were the two most notable girls in the convent, for they easily took precedence of their more indolent mates and were constantly racing for honours.  There the resemblance ended.  Eustaquia, with her small brilliant eyes, irregular features, and brilliant colour, was handsome rather than beautiful, but full of fire, fascination, and spirit.  Half the Presidio was in love with her, and that she was a shameless coquette she would have been the last to deny.  Pilar was beautiful, and although the close long lashes of her eyes hid dreams, rather than fire, and her profile and poise of head expressed all the pride of the purest aristocracy California has had, nothing could divert attention from the beauty of her contours of cheek and figure, and of her rich soft colouring.  The officers in church stood up to look at her; and at the balls and meriendas she attended in vacations the homage she received stifled and annoyed her.  She was as cold and unresponsive as Concepcion de Arguello.  People shrugged their shoulders and said it was as well.  Her mother, Dona Brigida de la Torre of the great Rancho Diablo, twenty miles from Monterey, was the sternest old lady in California.  It was whispered that she had literally ruled her husband with a greenhide reata, and certain it was that two years after the birth of Pilar (the thirteenth, and only living child) he had taken a trip to Mexico and never returned.  It was known that he had sent his wife a deed of the rancho; and that was the last she ever heard of him.  Her daughter, according to her imperious decree, was to marry Ygnacio Pina, the heir of the neighbouring rancho.  Dona Brigida anticipated no resistance, not only because her will had never been crossed, but because Pilar was the most docile of daughters.  Pilar was Dona Concepcion’s favourite pupil, and when at home spent her time reading, embroidering, or riding about the rancho, closely attended.  She rarely talked, even to her mother.  She paid not the slightest attention to Ygnacio’s serenades, and greeted him with scant courtesy when he dashed up to the ranch-house in all the bravery of silk and fine lawn, silver and lace.  But he knew the value of Dona Brigida as an ally, and was content to amuse himself elsewhere.