Anthony broke out in desperation:  “Hold on!  Let me explain!  There’s been an awful mistake.”

“Mistake?” The tone was blandly incredulous.

“Yes.  I’m not in love with Miss Torres.”

Professor Jesus Herara stared at the speaker as if his mastery of the English language was, after all, incomplete.  Torres, seeing that he was missing something, interpolated a smiling inquiry; then, as his interpreter made the situation clear, his honeyed smile froze, his sparkling eyes opened in bewilderment.  He stared about the room again, as if doubting that he had come to the right place.

“There’s really a mistake,” Kirk persisted.  “I don’t even know Miss Torres.”

“Ah!  Now I understand.”  The Professor was intensely relieved.  “It is precisely for that purpose we arrived.  Bueno!  You admire from a distance, is it not so?  You are struck with the lady’s beauty; your heart is awakened.  You are miserable.  You pine away.  You cannot find courage to speak.  It is admirable, senor.  We understand fully, and I, who know, assure you of her many virtues.”

“No, it’s nothing like that, either.  I have no doubt Miss Torres is altogether charming, but—­I—­there’s just a mistake, that’s all.  I’m not the least bit in love with her.”

“But, senor!  Is it not you who have stood beneath her window nightly?  Is it not you who have laid siege to her these many days?” The speaker’s eyes were glowing with anger as he turned to make his inquiry clear to the young lady’s father.

Mr. Torres began to swell ominously.

“If you’ll just let me explain.  I’m in love with a young woman, true enough, but it doesn’t happen to be Miss Torres.  I thought it was, but it isn’t.”

There was another vibrant exchange of words between the Spaniards.

“You were making sport, then, of my friend—­”

“No, no!  It’s another person altogether.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know her name.”

“What?” Herara was about to burst forth when his friend nudged him and he was obliged to put this amazing declaration into Spanish.  Senor Torres breathed heavily and exploded an oath.

“I met her in the country and made a mistake in the town houses,” Kirk floundered on.  “I never knew till this morning that I was on the wrong trail.  It is all my fault.  I thought the lady’s name was Torres.”

“Eh?  So you love one whom you do not know?  Incredible!”

“It does sound a little fishy.”

“And it is a grave affront to my friend.  How will the senorita understand?—­she in whose breast is awakened already an answering thrills?”

“I’m mighty sorry.  If you wish, I’ll apologize in person to Miss Torres.”

At this Herara cried out in horror; then, after a brief colloquy with the father, he rose stiffly, saying:  “I offer no words from my friend.  For the present he does not believe, nor do I. Inquiries will be institute, of that be assured.  If you have deceived—­if your intentions were not of the most honorable”—­the head of the Herara Business College glared in a horrible manner—­ “you will have occasion to regret those foolish jokes.”