Beautiful daydreams he wove and told to the listening ears of the noble lady. He had seen California, and knew well that part of it where his estate lay. The fire of poetry touched his words, as he sketched for her the estate mightier in length and breadth than any in Castile, fairer than Elysian fields, more fertile than the Andalusian meadows.
No landscape painter could limn mountains more picturesque and stately than did the words of Don Jesus Maria y José describe the eastern boundary of their domain in the land of far-away California. No minstrel could tell, in song or verse, of lake or bay so fair, so blue, as the inland sea which laved the western limit of their home-to-be.
Lady Romalda hearkened, and she smiled approvingly as she gave him her hand to kiss at parting.
"Soon will I return and claim my bride. The days I spend in the Californias, in preparation for your coming, will be as months and years to me."
She smiled kindly yet again, and waved a kiss at him as he rode forth from her father's gate to prepare the home for her across the many seas.
The soldier reached his California estate in due season, and with industry set about his task of love.
A hacienda house reached high its walls on an eminence near the mountain side of the estate. Moorish in architecture, its towers proudly surveyed the leagues of miles comprising the Mendoza grant. Tree and plant and flower smiled around it in the genial warmth of semitropic atmosphere. Avenues of olive lined its approaches. The Mission grapevine draped many arbors which were arranged in labyrinthine plan, all centering, after infinite curious turns, at the front door of the mansion.
Many ships brought furnishings from the world over for this wonderful palace.
The herds fattened for the killing, and were of great increase on this domain, as needs be, for the expense of the hacienda house was in keeping with its size and beauty.
At last all was ready for the bride. But——