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Updated: June 10, 2025
Zara de Echeveria needed no adornment to emphasize the attractions of her gorgeous self. She was one of those rare women who are rendered more attractive by the absence of all ornament and her dark eyes were more luminous and brilliant than any jewel she might have worn.
Derrington, these written words are to make you and Zara de Echeveria known to each other. Months will pass, and many of them may do so, before you will read what is written here; and it may be, it likely will be, that you are standing side by side when you break the seal of the last communication, written or oral, which I shall probably ever submit to you.
That person was Zara de Echeveria, the princess to whose presence in New York you lately called my attention, but respecting which I was already informed; for at the moment of your communication I had already seen her, and talked with her, and we had parted as you and I will do when I place this letter in your hands forever.
Remember now, Zara, that you promised to trust me implicitly. No matter what happens, remember that." "I will remember," she replied. Then there came the summons at the door, and the voice of Tom Coyle requesting an audience with the Princess Zara de Echeveria. She looked at me inquiringly, and I nodded. In a moment more, Tom, followed by two men, entered the room where we were awaiting them.
From my heart I thank you, and if it should be as you say, that we may never meet again, although I see no reason for such a thing, I wish you to know that in parting, Zara de Echeveria admired and esteemed you above all other men of her acquaintance. Good-bye." We need recite but one other interview which Princess Zara undertook that day.
I did not glance at him as I entered, but notwithstanding his presence, proceeded at once to business, instructing my men in exactly what they were to do that night. And he listened intently, first with anger and even rage, then with scorn and contempt, but finally with wonder and genuine fear. I had arranged the affair for the purpose of teaching Ivan de Echeveria a moral lesson.
Indeed we were silent during the moment that was required to traverse the length of the garden, and to pass from it into the house where the company was assembled. But I was conscious of a subtle change in the character of my feelings towards Zara de Echeveria.
I warn you, not in behalf of your party, the principals of which I despise and abhor; not in behalf of any individual member of that revolutionist sect, but wholly in behalf of Zara de Echeveria, the daughter of my best friend, the offspring of the only woman I ever loved. To-day while I talk to you, I am not Alexis Saberevski the friend of the czar, but I am Alexis Saberevski your friend.
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes brilliant, her lips laughing, Linda was showing Donald thrifty specimens of that Cotyledon known as "old hen and chickens," telling him of the rare Echeveria of the same family, and her plunge down the canyon side while trying to uproot it, exulting that she had brought down the plant without a rift in the exquisite bloom on its leaves.
Now, as I watched her, the same emotions succeeded each other in my judgment of her character, and finally I summed them all up in the decision that she was a being who was swayed by impulses. There are seeming paradoxes which will explain just what my conclusions were concerning Zara de Echeveria. She was deliberately impulsive; calculatingly reckless; systematically chaotic.
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