“It is such a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Brace,” said Mrs. Brimmer, languidly observing the young man through the sticks of her fan; “I was telling Don Ramon that I feared Dona Ursula had frightened you away.  I told him that your experience of American society might have caused you to misinterpret the habitual reserve of the Castilian,” she continued with the air of being already an alien of her own country, “and I should be only too happy to undertake the chaperoning of both these young ladies in their social relations with our friends.  And how is dear Mr. Banks? and Mr. Crosby? whom I so seldom see now.  I suppose, however, business has its superior attractions.”

But Don Ramon, with impulsive gallantry, would not—­nay, could not—­for a moment tolerate a heresy so alarming.  It was simply wildly impossible.  For why?  In the presence of Dona Barbara—­it exists not in the heart of man!

“You cannot, of course, conceive it, Don Ramon,” said Mrs. Brimmer, with an air of gentle suffering; “but I fear it is sadly true of the American gentlemen.  They become too absorbed in their business.  They forget their duty to our sex in their selfish devotion to affairs in which we are debarred from joining them, and yet they wonder that we prefer the society of men who are removed by birth, tradition, and position from this degrading kind of selfishness.”

“But that was scarcely true of your own husband.  He was not only a successful man in business, but we can see that he was equally successful in his relations to at least one of the fastidious sex,” said Brace, maliciously glancing at Don Ramon.

Mrs. Brimmer received the innuendo with invulnerable simplicity.

“Mr. Brimmer is, I am happy to say, not a business man.  He entered into certain contracts having more or less of a political complexion, and carrying with them the genius but not the material results of trade.  That he is not a business man—­and a successful one—­my position here at the present time is a sufficient proof,” she said triumphantly.  “And I must also protest,” she added, with a faint sigh, “against Mr. Brimmer being spoken of in the past tense by anybody.  It is painfully premature and ominous!”

She drew her mantilla across her shoulders with an expression of shocked sensitiveness which completed the humiliation of Brace and the subjugation of Don Ramon.  But, unlike most of her sex, she was wise in the moment of victory.  She cast a glance over her fan at Brace, and turned languidly to Dona Isabel.

“Mr. Brace must surely want some refreshment after his long ride.  Why don’t you seize this opportunity to show him the garden and let him select for himself the herbs he requires for that dreadful American drink; Miss Chubb and your sister will remain with me to receive the Comandante’s secretary and the Doctor when they come.”

“She’s more than my match,” whispered Brace to Dona Isabel, as they left the corridor together.  “I give in.  I don’t understand her:  she frightens me.”