"Women!" breathed Dolores; "if Dona Teresa hears this--" "It is the servants--only the servants," said Don Antonio. "Don Rafael has perhaps started on his journey; he will be disconsolate that--" But at that moment Rafael and Fernando came in from the dining-room, one smoothing his hair and one arranging his cravat. Rafael was the less sober of the two, but he managed to bow with a certain grace as he took Mrs. Bryton's hand. "My poor house is at your service, madama," he murmured, "and I am at your feet. I hastened to you as soon as--" --"As soon as he could get the other girls out the back door," remarked Fernando, aside to Bryton. "Mr. Bryton was horribly cross to me for coming in; he thinks it too unconventional; he thinks I do not know the Spanish customs, and--" "I offer myself as your teacher," said Rafael, looking straight into the blue eyes. "Believe me, senora, there are many delightful things to be learned in old California!" "I shall remember your offer," she returned, smilingly. "See how sulky Mr. Bryton looks! He never takes time to be gallant himself." "That is true," assented Rafael. "He never looks at the girls, or speaks except to tell them to keep quiet." "Oh!" she replied, with a little malicious smile, "there is always a girl excepted!" Bryton looked at her with impatient wonder; he was about to speak, when an Indian came in with a tray of coffee, and Rafael offered a cup to Mrs. Bryton. "Honor me, madama, and let us hear of the girl who is an exception." "Bravo! The exceptions are always of interest. Don Keith is forever a reproach to the rest of us; he has no vices." "Or conceals them better!" put in Rafael, with a touch of malice. "You are to be unmasked, senor," murmured Dolores, with lenient eyes. Bryton glanced at his watch and then with impatience at his sister-in-law. "I have not the slightest idea of the lady's meaning," he said, coldly; "and if you want to make an early start for the hot springs--" Mrs. Bryton shut her teeth together with a little click, at his palpable ignoring of herself. "Oh--short memory of man!" she said, chidingly; "He has forgotten in a year!" "A year?" Bryton stared at her with a puzzled frown, and a slight motion of his hand toward the door. That, with its little suggestion of authority, decided her. "I shall tell it," she announced. "How many of you believe in love at first sight?" "All of us, after meeting you!" declared Rafael, with an exaggerated bow. "Sure!" agreed Don Ricardo. "My husband, you know, is an engineer, and goes on long journeys into queer corners of the mining world." "Bad habit for husbands with pretty wives," remarked Don Antonio. "Last Winter," continued she, slowly sipping her coffee and watching Bryton; "last Winter he went to Mexico." "Pardon! We do not ask for the love affairs of your lucky husband, but--"