"Who knows?" returned Lisa with a shrug of her massive shoulders. "That _nina_ is run off and Gertrudis means to thrash her." "Oh, Lisa, she mustn't!" Blue Bonnet said in genuine distress. "Tell Gertrudis I'll come out and see her after dinner." She found Gertrudis slamming about the dishes in a most reckless fashion and muttering to herself angrily. To Blue Bonnet's plea in behalf of the absent Juanita she returned only stormy answers. "No, Senorita, she is spoiled for lack of thrashing. Run off on the Senorita's birthday! With a horde to wait on! And enough work for fifty lazy things like herself!" No, Juanita should be thrashed if ever she could lay hands on her. Blue Bonnet could not sway her from her purpose, and finally gave up arguing and left the kitchen, vowing mentally to prevent the angry old woman from carrying out her threat. But in the excitement of the evening's festivities, she forgot all about it. What an evening it was! Not one of the boys and girls lucky enough to be there would ever forget the scene. The broad verandas on which half the furniture of the house had been brought to form cosy-corners and lounging places; the soft gleam of Chinese lanterns strung among the trees; the music of Shady's violin, augmented by a flute and cello from Jonah, to which they danced on the croquet-ground; and everywhere the We are Sevens, stately in trains and hair dressed high, tripping and laughing and flirting their fans in the manner fondly believed to be that of high-born Spanish dames. Susy and Ruth had obligingly crammed their trunks with the attic treasures of the various Woodford families, and the costumes, while not strictly Spanish, were quite gorgeous and "partified" enough to satisfy these finery-loving young folk. Among them they had managed to fit out Carita too, and she, in a yellow gown with velvety gold-of-Ophir roses in the dusky coils of her hair, looked like a real maid of Andalusia. Blue Bonnet, in her red satin gown, which had not seen the light since the night it had been worn for the benefit of the Boston relatives, was a picture. Alec came up to her in the middle of the evening and made a low bow. "Senorita Blue Bonnetta, you look charming to-night, but it strikes me you're carrying things with a high hand. Why, among all your humble subjects, am I not favored with a dance or promenade? You've been engaged three deep every time I've asked you." For a minute Blue Bonnet toyed with her fan without speaking. She had purposely avoided Alec for a reason she considered good and sufficient. There was an explanation due her from him, and that also, she was resolved, should be "good and sufficient" or she would not accept it. And it seemed best, if there was to be any clash between them, that it should not come on her birthday. She would not easily forgive him for urging her to write that letter to the General.