“Oh,” exclaimed Grace, “one can never surprise you, Mr. Robles. Although you live the life of a hermit, you seem to be always the first to learn everything that is going on.” “A hermit, my dear, need not necessarily be out of touch with the world,” replied Robles, playfully pinching her ear. “And now, Mr. Willoughby, you came specially to see my pictures. Lead the way, Merle. Gentlemen, I say again—welcome to my mountain home.” They lingered awhile in the patio to admire the marble columns of the cloister that ran all around, the playing fountains at each of the four comers, with groups of symbolical statuary, the wealth of beautiful shrubs and flowers. On the side opposite to the gateway rose a tall tower, fashioned like the campanile of an Old Mission and crowned with bright red tiles. “We shall ascend there later on,” remarked Mr. Robles, following Dick’s upward glance. Then they passed through the wide-opened French window into the living rooms. The first was a great apartment that occupied one entire side of the building. In the centre was a large globe of the world. Here and there were glass cases displaying manuscripts and illuminated missals. Along the walls were finely-carved bookcases filled with several thousands of volumes. “When you have the leisure you can come and browse here,” said the host, addressing both young men. “Meanwhile you may care to look at the bronzes and statuary”—this with a sweep of the hand that indicated the art treasures distributed about the apartment. On the side of the house beneath the tower were the dining room and the billiard and smoking room. Passing through these, the visitors came to the picture gallery, a room corresponding in size to the library. Here were hung treasures of the painter’s art, masterpieces signed by names that are immortal. These, as their owner again explained, had been acquired by him during several prolonged visits to Europe. “Count this just as a preliminary survey, Mr. Willoughby,” he said finally. “Then come again. There are guest chambers on either side of the gateway, and one of these will always be at your disposal when I am at home. I extend the same invitation to you, Mr. Munson.” “My word, but you may feel honored,” exclaimed Grace, in unconcealed amazement. “When I open my gates, I open my heart as well,” said Mr. Robles, with a courtly little bow to his new friends. Next they ascended the tower. Its first floor, above the living rooms, was a delightful den filled with curios of all kinds. From this sprang a winding iron staircase, up which Mr. Robles led the way. The upper chamber, extending on all sides some distance beyond the supporting tower, proved larger than might have been expected. Its one conspicuous article of furniture was a great terrestrial telescope. The sliding panels of glass which formed a complete window all around the room showed that the instrument could be used without obstruction in any direction.