“It was ten days before Don Jose Argueello returned from Monterey and in the meantime no business could be transacted.  During these days Rezanov saw much of Concepcion, for there was dancing every afternoon at the home of the Comandante and frequent picnics into the neighboring woods.  It was not long before the Russian learned that Concepcion was not only La Favorita of the Presidio, but also of all California, for although born at San Francisco, she had spent much time in her childhood at Santa Barbara, where her father had been Comandante.  With a chain of missions and ranchos extending from San Diego to San Francisco, there was much interchange of hospitality, and Concha was a favorite guest at all fiestas.  So the dark eyed Spanish girl had danced her way into the heart of many a youth as she was now doing into that of this powerful Russian.

“Often he would stand in the shadow of the deep window casement and watch her lithe young figure bend in the graceful borego, occasionally catching a glance from beneath the sweeping lashes that would send his blood surging through his veins and make him almost forget the purpose of his voyage.  Sometimes he would draw her aside to talk of his hope that the Spaniards would furnish him bread-stuffs for his starving colony and he marveled at her keen insight into the affairs of state, while his heart beat the quicker for her warm sympathy.  Often their talk would wander to other things and as she occasionally flashed a smile in his direction, showing a row of pearly teeth, his blood tingled and he thought that the flush on her cheek was not unlike the pink Castilian rose that was nightly tucked in the soft coils of her shadowy hair.  At times he imagined her clad in rich satin, with a rope of pearls about her delicate throat, and as he drew the picture he saw her as a star among the ladies of the Russian court.

“When Don Jose Argueello returned, Rezanov asked him for the hand of his daughter in marriage, but the Comandante indignantly refused.  Although liking the distinguished Russian for himself, he would not listen to such—­a proposal.  Give his daughter to a foreigner and a heretic!  Never!  It was not to be thought of for an instant.  Concha must be sent away.  She must not see this Russian again!  He would have her taken to the home of his brother, who lived near the Mission, until the foreign ship was out of the bay.  While the father talked, the mother hurried to the padres to beg the good priests to forbid such a union.

“But Concha was no longer the docile girl of a month ago.  She was a woman and her heart was in the keeping of this sturdy Russian.  She would have him or none, and nothing the padres or her parents could say would change her.  Don Jose had never crossed his daughter before, and now as she flung her arms about his neck and begged for her happiness he weakened.  After all, this Russian was a splendid fellow, and perhaps it might be an advantage to Spain,