The woman was attired in a picturesque costume, such as is worn by the lower orders in the North of Spain, with the addition, however, of a bright-colored turban. Her face was decidedly handsome, though rather too sharp in outline and expression, while at the same time decidedly the worse for wear. A pair of fine bold black eyes were fixed upon Russell with an expression of undisguised admiration as she stood looking at him. The moment he turned she looked down, and then, dropping a courtesy, said: "Breakfast, senor." Upon this she deposited her tray upon a heavy oak table, and then stood looking at him with the same expression as before. There was something in all this which was flattering to the vanity of Russell; arid he stood regarding the woman with very much complaisance. And as he looked at her, he thought to himself that she was a very pretty woman. The woman then said, still looking at him: "Beaut'ful! Oh, lovela!" She spoke in broken English; and Russell, while flattered by her admiration, was delighted at hearing his own language. "Do you speak English, my dear?" he said, in a tone of affectionate familiarity, drawing nearer to her. "Oh yes--me speek Inglees--me in Cuba--learn speek Inglees--vara mooch." "Oh! so you've been in Cuba, have you, my dear? Well, Cuba's a very pretty country, and you're a very pretty woman." The woman smiled, showing rows of splendid teeth. "Senor mus' be a gran' nobile--a generale." Russell smiled a lofty smile, and laid his hand patronizingly, yet tenderly, upon the woman's shoulder. "You are a very sensible woman," said he, "and as pretty as you are sensible. What is your name?" "Rita," said the woman. "Well, Rita, I dare say you and I shall be great friends." [Illustration: "Beaut'ful! Oh, Lovela!"] "Friends! oh, senor is too much magnifico--" "Oh, I ain't proud, my dear--not a bit, not a mite. I've got plenty of money, Rita, and can help my friends; but I ain't proud, not me. And what may be your particular duties in this establishment?" "Senor?" "I say, what do you do here? Are you house-keeper?" "Senor, I am maid--to the lady prisoners--an' other things--to servar and attendar." "Prisoners, eh? Do they have many of them here?" "Oh--sometime," said Rita, with a laugh; "ladies and gen'l'ms." Russell looked at her with a benignant smile. "Well, Rita, all that I can say is, it's a pity that such a pretty woman as you cannot have some better fortune than this." Rita laughed. "Ah, senor, you a flattera!" "Oh no. I'm a plain, blunt, bluff, honest John Bull. But the fact is, you are very pretty, Rita, my dear!" Rita laughed again at this, and her large black eyes fixed themselves with bolder admiration upon the benignant face and splendid dress of the gallant tailor. Here a happy thought occurred to Russell's mind.