JUANETTA;
OR,
THE TREASURE OF THE LAKE OF THE TULIES
A great many years ago, before the discovery of the wonderful gold mines of California, there lived in Los Angelos an old Spanish family of pure Castilian blood.
Don Carlos De Strada was very rich. Far as the eye could reach his broad acres were spread out to his admiring view, and his flocks and herds almost literally fed upon a thousand hills.
His house was large and commodious, built after the Spanish fashion—an adobe house—surrounded on all sides by a wide piazza, and in the center an open courtyard. The windows were guarded by latticed bars of iron, and all the gates and doors were opened by massive keys. Bolts and bars belong as much to a Spanish house, as light elegancies to the hotel of a Parisian.
When Don Carlos left the banks of the Guadalquivir for the wild Lake of the Tulies, he brought with him a beautiful young wife, who loved him with all the passionate ardor of a Spanish woman.
It was a great change for the dainty lady, from the stately halls of castellated Spain to the wilderness of Los Angelos, although it was a wilderness of sweets, and the most enchanting climate in the world. Though the Don was a thorough-bred aristocrat, he was a shrewd business man, and so intent was he on becoming a great lord of the soil in the new country, that he did not notice the roses fading from the olive cheeks of his wife, and the soft mellow light of the woman's eye giving place to the more ethereal brightness of spiritual fire.
Spanish women seldom work, but in their hours of apparent listlessness they indulge in wild and ardent imaginings; and thus she would sit on the vine-clad piazza of the inner court, looking up to the clear sky, unrivaled even in Italy, until she would almost fancy, from the heavens above, she heard the rippling of the blue waters of the Guadalquivir.
There was one great hunger of her heart the Don seldom satisfied. She was his wife, and beautiful; as such, he loved her; but he never lavished the thousand little endearments upon her that is the natural food of woman's heart.
As the evening drew near, she would go to the barred window and look out upon the luxurious landscape, thinking only of the coming of her lord; and when she saw him, she would go timidly out to meet him, and hold her beautiful oval face up for a kiss, longing for him to throw his arms around her, and, if only for a moment, hold her to his heart.