She came down the little pathway and joined him without speaking further. Together, they silently turned off to the road that led up the hill and passed the old Spanish Mission. Certain that Lefty would remain silent as long as she set the example, Elinor gave him a hurried, sidelong glance, and with slight irony, remarked: “I suppose I should feel highly honored over your condescension in favoring me with your precious society this evening?” She waited a moment for him to reply but he was too miserable even to look in the girl’s direction. “Well,” she began again, this time in a lighter, indifferent fashion, though still secretly burning with jealousy, “did you have a good time last night?” “I don’t blame you for not being tickled pink to see me,” he said, in a manner that distinctly betrayed his secret disgust with himself, and the mark of unhappiness his present task had left upon his heart and face. “I haven’t been at all considerate of your feelings of late, but if you were acquainted with the circumstances, you might not be so harsh in your opinion of me.” Just ahead of them was a native hut with large palm trees silhouetted in the background against the pale, evening tropical sky. The moon, peeking over the tree tops, reflected the dark figures of several men and women seated on the porch of the little house, singing the alluring love melodies of far-away Spain to the accompaniment of indolent, strumming guitars. The boy and girl paused just before an ancient well, built centuries ago by the Spanish Inquisitors. Elinor gazed up at the unhappy Marine whose face bore a pathetic expression of inquietude. “Why the sudden outburst of remorse?” she asked in the same piqued manner as her original approach. “I’m not remorseful or—well, I only meant to explain that I wouldn’t have bothered you to-night if I didn’t have something important to ask you!” Elinor’s heart almost stopped beating at the welcome sound of his words that held so much promise. He could mean but one thing, she was certain, and at the mere thought of an impending proposal of marriage from this man, she looked up at him with suppressed eagerness and anticipation, half whispering: “Yes, Lefty, what is it?” “I hardly know how to begin,” he faltered, “and I hope that you will take what I am going to say in the right way.” “Of course!” Throwing discretion and self-pride to the winds, he gazed at her with wild, piercing eyes, a look that quickened the beating of her heart and thrilled her to the very tips of her fingers.