"_I_ am a stranger to you, Señor, but _you_ are none to me," she said, with a gracious smile. "Before I ventured upon the boldness of seeking this interview, your intelligence, your experience, your honourable report was already made known to me by your friends. Let me call myself one of these--even before I break the business for which I have summoned you." The absurd figure bowed again, but even through the pitiable chalk and cosmetics of its complexion, an embarrassed colour showed itself. Donna Dolores noticed it, but delicately turned toward an old-fashioned secretary, and opened it, to give her visitor time to recover himself. She drew from a little drawer a folded, legal-looking document, and then placing two chairs beside the secretary, seated herself in one. Thus practically reminded of his duty, Mr. Perkins could no longer decline the proffered seat. "I suppose," said Donna Dolores, "that my business, although familiar to you generally--although you are habitually consulted upon just such questions--may seem strange to you, when you frankly learn my motives. Here is a grant purporting to have been made to my--father--the late Don José Salvatierra. Examine it carefully, and answer me a single question to the best of your judgment." She hesitated, and then added--"Let me say, before you answer yes or no, that to me there are no pecuniary interests involved--nothing that should make you hesitate to express an opinion which you might be called upon legally to prove. _That_ you will never be required to give. Your answer will be accepted by me in confidence; will not, as far as the world is concerned, alter the money value of this document--will leave you free hereafter to express a different opinion, or even to reverse your judgment publicly if the occasion requires it. You seem astounded, Señor Perkins. But I am a rich woman. I have no need to ask your judgment to increase my wealth." "Your question is"----said Mr. Perkins, speaking for the first time without embarrassment. "Is that document a forgery?" He took it out of her hand, opened it with a kind of professional carelessness, barely glanced at the signature and seals, and returned it. "The signatures are genuine," he said, with business-like brevity; then he added, as if in explanation of that brevity, "I have seen it before." Donna Dolores moved her chair with the least show of uneasiness. The movement attracted Mr. Perkins' attention. It was something novel. Here was a woman who appeared actually annoyed that her claim to a valuable property was valid. He fixed his eyes upon her curiously. "Then you think it is a genuine grant?" she said, with a slight sigh. "As genuine as any that receive a patent at Washington," he replied, promptly. "Ah!" said Donna Dolores, simply. The feminine interjection appeared to put a construction upon Señor Perkins' reply that both annoyed and challenged him. He assumed the defensive.