“I feel myself deeply honoured, mademoiselle, by being made the bearer of any communication from you. I will employ my most earnest efforts to convey to my sister your wishes and the auspicious circumstances under which they are so graciously expressed.” She had to turn away before I finished, but she would not smile. There was, however, less real chill and more effort at formality when she replied-- “As you have delivered your message, monsieur----” she finished with a wave of the hands, as if dismissing me. But I was not going of course, and then I made a very gratifying little discovery. Her dance card was turned over by her gesture and I saw that for the next dance she had no partner. “That is only one of the messages, mademoiselle,” I replied after a pause in the same stilted tone. “Have I your permission to report the second?” I guessed she was beginning to see the absurdity of it, for she turned slightly away from me and bowed, not trusting herself to speak. “My brother-in-law, M. Stefan Madrillo, desired me to bring you an assurance of his best wishes.” “Have you any messages from the children also, monsieur?” she asked quickly, with a swift flash of her glorious eyes. I kept it up for another round. “I am honoured by being able to assure you that their boy appreciated to the full the bon-bons which were the outcome of your distinguished generosity when in Paris, and retains his appetite for delicacies; but the little girl, not yet being able to speak, has entrusted me with no more than some gurgles and coos. To my profound regret I cannot reproduce them verbatim. May I have the honour of conveying your reply?” She kept her face turned right away from me and did not answer. “I have yet another message, mademoiselle, if your patience is not exhausted,” I said after a pause. “Still another, monsieur?” “Still another, mademoiselle.” “From whom, monsieur?” “From a man you knew in Paris, mademoiselle, Mr. Ralph Donnington. He has charged me to explain----” “I don’t wish to hear that one, thank you,” she broke in. “But he is absolutely determined that you shall hear it.” “Shall?” she cried warmly, throwing back her head with a lovely poise of indignation and looking straight into my eyes. “Yes, shall,” I replied firmly. “I have travelled over a thousand miles to deliver it.” “I am not interested in mining concessions, Mr. Donnington,” she cried scornfully, thinking to wither me. “Nor am I.” Her intense surprise at this put all her indignation to flight, and left nothing in her eyes but bewildered curiosity. “Nor am I,” I repeated with a smile. “But----” “I know,” I said when she paused. “I had to have a pretext.” She knew what I meant then and lowered her eyes. “I still do not wish to hear Mr. Donnington’s message,” she said after a pause and in a very different tone. “I do not wish to force it upon you now, and certainly not against your wish. I may be some months in Lisbon, and----”