“Enriquez is at Salvatierra Rancho, which he lately bought from his cousin.”

“And the baby?  Surely, here is a chance for you to hang him up on a redwood tonight, in his cradle.”

“The boy,” said Mrs. Saltillo quickly, “is no longer in his cradle; he has passed the pupa state, and is now free to develop his own perfected limbs.  He is with his father.  I do not approve of children being submitted to the indiscriminate attentions of a hotel.  I am here myself only for that supply of ozone indicated for brain exhaustion.”

She looked so pretty and prim in her gray dress, so like her old correct self, that I could not think of anything but her mental attitude, which did not, by the way, seem much like mental depression.  Yet I was aware that I was getting no information of Enriquez’s condition or affairs, unless the whole story told by the broker was an exaggeration.  I did not, however, dare to ask more particularly.

“You remember Professor Dobbs?” she asked abruptly.

This recalled a suspicion awakened by my vision, so suddenly that I felt myself blushing.  She did not seem to notice it, and was perfectly composed.

“I do remember him.  Is he here?”

“He is; that is what makes it so particularly unfortunate for me.  You see, after that affair of the board, and Enriquez’s withdrawal, although Enriquez may have been a little precipitate in his energetic way, I naturally took my husband’s part in public; for although we preserve our own independence inviolable, we believe in absolute confederation as against society.”

“But what has Professor Dobbs to do with the board?” I interrupted.

“The professor was scientific and geological adviser to the board, and it was upon some report or suggestion of his that Enriquez took issue, against the sentiment of the board.  It was a principle affecting Enriquez’s Spanish sense of honor.”

“Do tell me all about it,” I said eagerly; “I am very anxious to know the truth.”

“As I was not present at the time,” said Mrs. Saltillo, rebuking my eagerness with a gentle frigidity, “I am unable to do so.  Anything else would be mere hearsay, and more or less ex parte.  I do not approve of gossip.”

“But what did Enriquez tell you?  You surely know that.”

“That, being purely confidential, as between husband and wife,—­perhaps I should say partner and partner,—­of course you do not expect me to disclose.  Enough that I was satisfied with it.  I should not have spoken to you about it at all, but that, through myself and Enriquez, you are an acquaintance of the professor’s, and I might save you the awkwardness of presenting yourself with him.  Otherwise, although you are a friend of Enriquez, it need not affect your acquaintance with the professor.”

“Hang the professor!” I ejaculated.  “I don’t care a rap for him.”

“Then I differ with you,” said Mrs. Saltillo, with precision.  “He is distinctly an able man, and one cannot but miss the contact of his original mind and his liberal teachings.”