Through this orange aisle it pleased Miss Thorne to walk with Evert Winthrop. Mrs. Thorne came next, with the Rev. Dr. Moore; Dr. Kirby followed at a little distance, walking alone, and resting, if not his feet, at least his conversational powers. The two younger men were last, and some yards behind the others, Torres advancing with his usual woodenness of joint, not indulging in much conversation, but giving a guarded Spanish monosyllable now and then to his New World compatriot, who, still angry, let his slender cane strike the trunks of the orange-trees as they passed along, these strokes being carefully watched by Torres, who turned his thin neck stiffly each time, like an automaton, to see if the bark had received injury. "We make quite a little procession," said Winthrop, looking back. "We have four divisions." "What do you think of them?" inquired Garda. "The divisions?" "No; my four persons about here." "Dr. Kirby is delightful, I don't know when I have met any one so much so." "Delightful," said Garda, meditatively. "I am very fond of Dr. Reginald, he is almost the best friend I have in the world; but delightful?--does delightful mean--mean--" She paused, leaving her sentence unfinished. "Does delightful mean Dr. Kirby?" said Winthrop, finishing it for her. "Dr. Kirby is certainly delightful, but he doesn't exhaust the capacity of the adjective; it has branches in other directions." "And the others?" "The other directions?" "No; the other persons about here." "I have seen Mr. Moore so few times that I have had scarcely opportunity to form an opinion." "You formed one of Dr. Reginald the first time you saw him. But I was not speaking of Mr. Moore, I meant the others still." "Those young natives? Really, I have not observed them." "Now, there, I do not believe you," said Garda; "you have observed them, you observe everything. You say that to put them down--why should you put them down? You are very imperious, why should you be imperious?" And she looked at him, not vexed but frankly curious. "Imperious," said Winthrop; "what extraordinary words you use? I am not imperious, as you call it, with you." "No; but you would be if it were allowable," said the girl, nodding her head shrewdly. "Fortunately it isn't." "Make the experiment--allow it; I might do better than you think." "There is room for improvement, certainly," she answered, laughing. They had reached the end of the orange aisle, she passed under the green archway (which proved to be quite high enough), and went out into the sunshine beyond, calling "Carlos Mateo? Carlos, dear?" Then, in Spanish, "Angel of my heart, come to me."