The small lady shook her head with a demure smile. They returned slowly through the fields. Yes, this girl was utterly different from the women of his own race, and her difference appealed to him. She seemed, even in her simplicity, more womanly, more as women were meant to be, the protected and the adored. His imagination built up a pretty picture of a dreamy existence in a beautiful country with such a trusting, simple, lovable creature as companion. “Why do you go away so soon?” she demanded as they neared the house. “I must take the boat for Europe,” he replied. “There will be another boat in a month.” “Would you like me to stay?” “Of course! Don’t you know that?” . . . Calloway and Hollinger were already on horse-back in the courtyard, about to start without him. “Are you coming with us?” the fight-trust man asked with an ironical smile. The Englishman and his wife gave the young stranger a cordial invitation to remain and make a long visit. Brainard was about to accept when he remembered his bag left unguarded in the hotel room. “I shall have to return to the hotel for to-night,” he said reluctantly. “Well, I’ll drive over for you and your luggage to-morrow,” the Englishman insisted cordially. And Señorita Marie whispered demurely, “Au revoir—there’s another steamer—in a month!” So Brainard rode off with the others, very much pleased with himself and life, lightly putting aside his settled purpose of taking the _Toulouse_ two days hence. What urgent reason for haste, when life was so full of promise and of beauty? Another month would do as well for Krutzmacht’s business. . . . “You didn’t see much of the plantation,” the Southerner drawled to Brainard as the young man’s horse drew up abreast. “He saw a great deal of something more to his liking,” Hollinger observed, a little ironical smile on his lips. “I had a very good day,” Brainard responded simply, wishing to avoid further reference to the girl. * * * * * The daylight quickly faded, and before they reached the hill on which Jalapa lies, the moon was up, flooding the valley and the mountains. Calloway became confidential, and for the first time told the full story of their recent host. Years before, the Englishman had arrived in Mexico and bought this plantation. He was a young man then and single. He never went home. It seems that he had absconded from a shipping firm in Liverpool where he was employed and had taken ten thousand pounds. Later he married a Mexican woman of good family and had prospered. “But he never leaves the country. The woman and the girls go—the son is being educated in the States—but the old man has never been beyond the line.” “It must be hard on them—the girls,” Brainard said.