"Most young men," Don Carlos observed, "delight to win a woman, and are proud if they have a great and fashionable wedding."
"No doubt. But it is an awful nuisance. However, I will go through with it, señor. It is my father's wish, you see. You—if you will pardon me again—have fallen upon evil days. That is the result of politics, of course. But you are of excellent blood, señor, of the best blood in the land."
"I thank you for remembering that truth!" said Don Carlos, rising long enough to put one hand over his heart and bow.
"Everybody knows it, señor. And a Vega, naturally, when he takes a mate, must seek out a woman of excellent blood."
"To be sure!" Don Carlos exclaimed.
"You have an only daughter, the Señorita Lolita."
"Ah! Yes, indeed, señor. Lolita is eighteen now, and a beautiful and accomplished girl, if her father is the man to say it."
"I have observed her at the mission and at the pueblo," Don Diego said. "She is, indeed, beautiful, and I have heard that she is accomplished. Of her birth and breeding there can be no doubt. I think she would be a fit woman to preside over my household."
"Señor?"