By and by an officer Kit had met told him he must dance and took him along the arcade.  The officer stopped where two girls sat under a string of lamps, with a man in black clothes and a fat old woman behind.  At first, Kit could not see them well, but when they got up he started as he recognized the girl who had dropped the flower.  Then he tried to hide his embarrassment as he was presented to Senorita Francisca Sarmiento.  She was handsomer than he had thought and as she made him a stately curtsey her eyes twinkled.

Kit imagined the other girl studied him carefully and wondered whether she knew about the flower.  It was, however, his duty to ask the senorita to dance, and after a few moments they crossed the pavement.  Kit had some misgivings, because the dance was involved and one used a number of different steps, but the girl guided him through its intricacies and when he took her back signed him to sit down.  He obeyed, for Francisca Sarmiento had an imperious air.  Other young men came up when the music began again, but passed on, and Kit imagined the girl had made them understand they were to do so since one or two frowned at him.

“Well,” she said, looking at him across her fan, “how do you like this country?”

“It has many attractions,” Kit replied.

“But some drawbacks?”

“The drawbacks are not very obvious now.”

“Ah,” she said, giving him a mocking glance, “for an Englishman, you are polite, but it looks as if you were as cautious as I thought.”

“I’m flattered that you thought about me at all.”  Kit rejoined.

She laughed and played with her fan.  “Oh, well; we are curious about strangers, particularly when they are friends of the president’s.  One wonders why they come.”

“I imagine most of us come to get money.”

“In this country, one gets nothing unless one runs some risk, and you are cautious,” Francisca remarked.

Kit noted her insistence on this trait of his.  He thought her remarks had a meaning that did not appear on the surface.

“I wonder what grounds you have for thinking so,” he said.

“Are they not obvious?” she answered.  “Not long since you hesitated to pick up a sprig of heliotrope.”

“I durst not think the compliment was meant for me.”

Francisca glanced at him with quiet amusement.  “You are modest, senor; it looks as if you had a number of virtues.  For one thing, I imagine you are honest, and honesty is not very common here.”  She paused and resumed in a meaning tone:  “It is a drawback, if one wants to get rich.”

“I don’t know that my character is worth your study,” Kit replied carelessly.

“You are of some importance, senor.  Although I have admitted that you are modest, it is strange you do not know.”

“Why should I know?” Kit asked.

Francisca studied him over her ebony fan, which hid half her face and emphasized the curious glow of her black eyes.  “I do not think you are as dull as you pretend.  Have you not been experimented on recently?”