The hour of the siesta was just past, and the corridor and gardens of the Alcalde’s house were grouped with friends and acquaintances as the party from the Presidio entered.  Mrs. Brimmer, who had apparently effected a temporary compromise with her late instincts of propriety, was still doing the honors of the Alcalde’s house, and had once more assumed the Mexican dishabille, even to the slight exposure of her small feet, stockingless, in white satin slippers.  The presence of the Comandante and his Secretary guaranteed the two ladies of their party a reception at least faultless in form and respect, whatever may have been the secret feelings of the hostess and her friends.  The Alcalde received Mrs. Markham and Miss Keene with unruffled courtesy, and conducted them to the place of honor beside him.

As Eleanor Keene, slightly flushed and beautiful in her unwonted nervous excitement, took her seat, a flutter went around the corridor, and, with the single exception of Dona Isabel, an almost imperceptible drawing together of the other ladies, in offensive alliance.  Miss Keene had never abandoned her own style of dress; and that afternoon her delicate and closely-fitting white muslin, gathered in at the waist with a broad blue belt of ribbon, seemed to accentuate somewhat unflatteringly the tropical neglige of Mrs. Brimmer and Miss Chubb.  Brace, who was in attendance, with Crosby, on the two Ramirez girls, could not help being uneasily conscious of this, in addition to the awkwardness of meeting Miss Keene after the transfer of his affections elsewhere.  Nor was his embarrassment relieved by Crosby’s confidences to him, in a half audible whisper,—­

“I say, old man, after all, the regular straight-out American style lays over all their foreign flops and fandoodles.  I wonder what old Brimmer would say to his wife’s full-dress nightgown—­eh?”

But at this moment the long-drawn, slightly stridulous utterances of Mrs. Brimmer rose through the other greetings like a lazy east wind.

“I shall never forgive the Commander for making the Presidio so attractive to you, dear Miss Keene, that you cannot really find time to see your own countrymen.  Though, of course, you’re not to blame for not coming to see two frights as we must look—­not having been educated to be able to do up our dresses in that faultless style—­and perhaps not having the entire control over an establishment like you; yet, I suppose that, even if the Alcalde did give us carte blanche of the laundry here, we couldn’t do it, unaided even by Mrs. Markham.  Yes, dear; you must let me compliment you on your skill, and the way you make things last.  As for me and Miss Chubb, we’ve only found our things fit to be given away to the poor of the Mission.  But I suppose even that charity would look as shabby to you as our clothes, in comparison with the really good missionary work you and Mr. Hurlstone—­or is it Mr. Brace?—­I always confound your admirers, my dear—­are doing now.  At least, so says that good Father Esteban.”