Natalie de Santos rubs her eyes in wonder at the queen city of the
West, with its conquered hills and vanished sand-dunes. Whirled away
to a secure quiet retreat in a convent, selected by Pere Francois,
the heiress and her young guardian are safe from even Hardin's
wiles.
Pere Francois at New York has conferred a day with Judge Davis,
and bids his new charge be calm and trust to his own advice. Isabel
Valois is in a maze of new impressions, and bewildered by a strange
language.
Bravely attired, and of a generous port, Raoul Dauvray installs
himself in one of the palatial hotels which are the pride of the
occidental city. Colonel Joseph Woods is conspicuously absent.
When the fatigue of travel is over, Natalie de Santos quietly summons
Philip Hardin to the interview she dreads. She has been prepared
by Pere Francois for this ordeal. Yet her tiger blood leaps up in
bubbling floods. She will at last face the would-be traitor, and
upbraid him. Oh, for one resolute friend!
It is in another convent that lovely "Isabel Valois" is concealed.
The heiress longs to burst her bonds. Is not Raoul near her?
Assured of a necessity for patience, the wayward beauty bides her
time. Every day the roses she caresses, whisper to her of the ardent
lover who sighs near her in vain.
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