"Your harp!" he exclaimed.
"I should have brought a sheaf of Spanish songs such as the ladies sing to the guitar in New Orleans!--My dear sir, your fair wife and my Theodosia must one day sing together, walk hand in hand together, in that richer, sweeter land! They shall use the mantilla and wield the fan.

Crowns are too heavy--they shall wear black lace!" He spoke with not unpleasant brusqueness, a military manner tempered with gallantry, and he looked at Rand with quick black eyes.

"Yes, they must meet," said Rand simply.

He spoke composedly, but he had nevertheless a moment's vision of Jacqueline, away from the snow and the storm, walking in beauty through the gardens of a far country.

He saw her with a circlet of gold upon her head, a circlet of Mexican gold.
Crowns were heavy, but men--ay, and women, too!--fought for them.