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Updated: June 9, 2025
No Californian had ever walked six miles, and the wheel was past repair. But Abel Hudson came to the rescue. "Leave it to me," he said. "I pledge myself to get you there," and he went off in the direction of a ranch-house. "Ay! the good American! The good American!" cried the girls. "Eulogia! how canst thou be so cold to him? The handsome stranger with the kind heart!"
Word has reached him that the Señorita Eulogia is about to marry an American. I humbly ask you to tell me if this be true or not. I have been told in town that the wedding is set for the day after to-morrow." "Ask her!" cried Doña Pomposa, tragically, and she swung herself to the other end of the room. "Señorita, at your feet."
Two months after Eulogia had sent her letter, she received one from Graciosa La Cruz, containing the information that Ignestria had married the invalid girl whose love for him had been the talk of Monterey for many years. And Eulogia? Her flirtations had earned her far and wide the title of Doña Coquetta, and she was cooler, calmer, and more audacious than ever.
"By every station in the mission I will not. Why bring more women into the world to suffer?" "Ay, Eulogia! thou art always saying things I cannot understand and that thou shouldst not think about. But I have a husband for thee. He came from Los Angeles this morning, and is a friend of my Carlos. His name is not so pretty Tomas Garfias. There he rides now."
His face was black with powder, one arm hung limp at his side. Doña Pomposa half raised her arm to signal the men on the hill, but her daughter gave it such a pinch that she fell back on the seat, faint for a moment. "Let him go," said Eulogia. "Do you want to see a man cut in pieces before your eyes? You would have to say rosaries for the rest of your life."
"Si a cuantas estimas, das Beso en pruebas de amor; Si me amas hasme el favor De no besarme jamas." A caballero on a prancing horse sang beneath Eulogia's window, his jingling spurs keeping time to the tinkling of his guitar. Eulogia turned over in bed, pulling the sheet above her ears, and went to sleep.
"Why should I suspect what I have not thought about?" "Ay, Eulogia! Art thou as saucy as ever? But I will tell thee, beloved one. The poor girl who bore my name is dead, and I have come to beg an answer to my letter. Ay, little one, I feel thy love. Why couldst thou not have sent me one word?
Many of the girls were beautiful, with their long braids and soft eyes, but Eulogia, in her yellow gown, flashed about like a succession of meteors, as the Americans drew near and proffered their services to Doña Pomposa. The young man introduced himself as Charles Rogers. He was a good-looking little fellow, in the lighter American style.
As he caught Graciosa's eye he raised his sombrero, then rode through the open door of a neighbouring saloon and tossed off an American drink without dismounting from his horse. Eulogia lifted her shoulders. "I like his saddle and his horse, but he is too small. Still, a new man is not disagreeable. When shall I meet him?" "To-night, my Eulogia. He goes with us to Miramar."
When she finished, Ignestria's heart was hammering upon the steel in which he fancied he had prisoned it. "Well," said Eulogia to Padre Moraga two weeks later, "am I not La Favorita?" "Thou art, thou little coquette. Thou hast a power over men which thou must use with discretion, my Eulogia. Tell thy beads three times a day and pray that thou mayest do no harm."
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