“And leave me alone with you!  God of my soul!  How I should yawn!”

“Oh, yes, Dona Coquetta, I am used to such pretty little speeches.  When you began to yawn I should ride away, and you would be glad to see me when I returned.”

“What would you bring me from the mountains, senor?”

He looked at her steadily.  “Gold, senorita.  I know of many rich veins.  I have a little canon suspected by no one else, where I pick out a sack full of gold in a day.  Gold makes the life of a beloved wife very sweet, senorita.”

“In truth I should like the gold better than yourself, senor,” said Eulogia, frankly.  “For if you will have the truth—­Ay!  Holy heaven!  This is worse than the other!”

A lurch, splash, and the party with shrill cries sprang to their feet; the low cart was filling with water.  They had left the canon and were crossing a slough; no one had remembered that it would be high tide.  The girls, without an instant’s hesitation, whipped their gowns up round their necks; but their feet were wet and their skirts draggled.  They made light of it, however, as they did of everything, and drove up to Miramar amidst high laughter and rattling jests.

Dona Luisa Quijas, a handsome shrewd-looking woman, magnificently dressed in yellow satin, the glare and sparkle of jewels on her neck, came out upon the corridor to meet them.

“What is this?  In a wagon of the country!  An accident?  Ay, Dios de mi vida, the slough!  Come in—­quick! quick!  I will give you dry clothes.  Trust these girls to take care of their gowns.  Mary!  What wet feet!  Quick! quick!  This way, or you will have red noses to-morrow,” and she led them down the corridor, past the windows through which they could see the dancers in the sala, and opened the door of her bedroom.

“There, my children, help yourselves,” and she pulled out the capacious drawers of her chest.  “All is at your service.”  She lifted out an armful of dry underclothing, then went to the door of an adjoining room and listened, her hand uplifted.

“Didst thou have to lock him up?” asked Dona Pomposa, as she drew on a pair of Dona Luisa’s silk stockings.

“Yes! yes!  And such a time, my friend!  Thou knowest that after I fooled him the last time he swore I never should have another ball.  But, Dios de mi alma!  I never was meant to be bothered with a husband, and have I not given him three children twenty times handsomer than himself?  Is not that enough?  By the soul of Saint Luis the Bishop, I will continue to promise, and then get absolution at the mission, but I will not perform!  Well, he was furious, my friend; he had spent a sack of gold on that ball, and he swore I never should have another.  So this time I invited my guests, and told him nothing.  At seven to-night I persuaded him into his room, and locked the door.  But, madre de Dios!  Diego had forgotten to screw down the window, and he got out.  I could not get him back, Pomposa, and his