"That's better, little papa, somewhat better. Isn't it magnificent that we're to have a valecito casero? In school in Mexico City we went to bed regularly at eight o'clock. To-night it will be midnight, and later. When I think of my present freedom and the old school days my heart rejoices itself; yet I loved the school and everyone in it. Often in dreams I am in those old rooms overlooking the Plaza Mercedes, and I hear the splashing of the fountains and the singing of the birds."
"My child's heart lives in scenes left behind months ago, yet the spirit rejoices in present liberty. Well, it is the way of the world."
Carmelita was sitting on the arm of her father's chair stroking his face and hands, and occasionally giving gentle pulls to his long mustache. Strangely alike were these two, the slender, dark-eyed girl, and the stalwart, graying man, athletic-appearing even in his years. The waving mane above his forehead was the prototype of the coal-black hair of the señorita which billowed over her shoulders and fell below her waist.
His cheek was bronze, showing dashes of red; hers was creamy, with the blush of youth surmounting; but it was the contour of face and form of both, strongly chiseled, yet superbly fine, that bespoke a model fashioned and perfected generations before in aristocratic Spain.
"What a philosopher my father is!" Then, after a moment: "Yesterday Señor Zelaya said to Señor Higuera, as they passed along the corridor, 'But the Administrator says that we must educate ourselves to a deeper appreciation—' I did not catch the rest. Señor Higuera replied, 'And the Administrator has a philosophy of deep and wide application.' Tell me about it."
"My daughter, I think you would prefer a more interesting story. My philosophy, if you made it rightly, has been long in coming to me. On the other hand, the estate of womanhood now present with you seems to have grown overnight."
Carmelita arose, curtsied to her father, then resumed her seat.
"But my philosophy touches not any abstract principle. It deals only with powers that move the human heart."
"Vast political forces are astir in this old world of ours. The theory that God appoints kings is rapidly dissipating. The sun of democracy, long mantled by the fog of tyranny, shines soon in unobscured ray. In the to-morrow of to-morrow shall the people rule, as their right divine."
The señorita smiled into her father's eyes. "Lolita Hernandez once said to me, a long time ago, when she was petulant, that my father is a rebel. I replied by calling her a minx."