’Catalina says that our father is not the same man he was when our mother first married him,’ said Felipa thoughtfully. ’The many worries he has have made the change. But never mind, Carlo, this mood will pass by, and we shall be happy again. When our brave uncle, Don Alvarez, comes with dear Aunt Elena, then they will advise our father, and he always takes Uncle Alvarez’s opinion. He always does, because uncle speaks so decidedly.’ The two children spoke in Spanish, but, strangely enough, they often put in English words and whole English phrases; and the reason of this was soon apparent, for at this moment a pretty, fair girl was seen running towards them with nimble feet down the slope, and, picking her way among the gorgeous flower-beds, she cried out in pure English, though with a slightly foreign accent: ’Dear Felipa, what do you think! There is a trading-vessel in the port, and the merchant has just come to offer us some beautiful cloth, and silver buckles! Catalina dares not send him away till you have seen him.’ Carlo smiled as he looked at the English girl’s beautiful fair hair, rosy cheeks, and active limbs. To him she appeared like some angel, for he was accustomed to seeing only dark people, and the Spanish women in the island were anything but beautiful. Felipa shook her head as she answered: ’Tell Catalina to say I want nothing.’ The Governor’s daughter spoke with just that tone of command which showed she was accustomed to be first, even though her gentle manner and sad face plainly indicated that her real nature was rather yielding than imperious. ’I can see Etta admired the silver buckles,’ said Carlo kindly. ’Come, Mistress Englishwoman, I will buy you a pair; for, with the dislike to long petticoats that comes from your English blood, the pretty buckles are more necessary for you than for Felipa.’ ’Oh, dear Carlo, will you really!’ said Etta, her face beaming with pleasure. ’How good you are to me!’ All at once, however, the smile died away, and, sitting down on a seat near Felipa, the English girl added, with tears in her blue eyes: ’But no, Carlo, I will not accept your buckles: a prisoner has no right to wear pretty things.’ ’A prisoner! Oh, Etta!’ said Felipa, throwing her arms round Etta’s neck, ’why do you say that? Do we not love you dearly? Am I not a sister to you? and Carlo a dear brother? Do I not share all my things with you? And when Catalina is cross to you I make her sorry.’ ’And my father has almost forgotten you are not one of his own,’ added Carlo, standing behind Etta and taking one of the fair curls in his hand; for he dearly loved this English sister, as he called Etta Allison. ’Yes, yes, it is all true, and Santa Teresa is a lovely home; but I cannot forget I am English, and that I am really a prisoner. I once asked Don Estevan to send me back to England by one of the big ships, and he refused; and yet my mother’s last words were that I was not to forget my own land.’