My hat was tastefully perched on the crown of her head, rather on one side and made fast to a net or caul in which her hair was confined, an arrangement not unfrequently adopted by men in Spain. Thus, with the addition of a pair of top or jockey-boots (also mine) and a handsome whip, she had all the appearance of a smart and fashionable little postilion. Her white jacket was also slit and frogged, but in front and for a similar reason. Now as we lightly tripped downstairs a confused noise was heard through the house, a violent retching caused by the previous night’s dissipation; all were indeed aroused; and as we were hurrying our little postilion towards the stables we were overtaken by the ever vigilant aunt and a host of servants. Protestations of honourable intentions were vain; the poor little postilion was made prisoner and marched back to the house, while we slunk off crestfallen and abashed. [Sidenote: AN ELOPEMENT PREVENTED.] Moving silently along we arrived that night at Reynosa and were billeted in different houses. Next day we visited the interesting little hamlet Fontebro, so called from its being close to two springs, whence that noble stream the Ebro derives its waters; this was three miles distant from Reynosa. On our return we dined with the gentleman at whose house I was quartered, a most hospitable person; his wife was equally hospitable; they cordially invited us to remain some days. We met a large party of ladies and gentlemen at dinner and were highly entertained, as is generally the case at all foreign tables where people meet to eat, drink and be merry, rather than to watch what others eat and drink and criticise their manner of doing so. I once heard a fine gentleman ask the person next him at a dinner-party and in hearing of the person who caused the remark, “Can you fancy anything so vulgar and ill-bred as to be helped twice to soup?” The answer was pungent and laconic, “Yes, remarking it.”