"Yes," he affirmed with unusual animation, "I was permitted to play, for the first time in my life, the exalted rôle of the good old man who comes out of the bushes just in time to save the beautiful princess from disaster." We all laughed, but Mariposilla sank her lovely face lower, while she regarded her plate intently. Suddenly she lifted her great earnest eyes fearlessly to my own. They were full of light and happiness. I doubted no longer that she was innocent of what I had imagined. "I will call the señora early," Mariposilla said, when Sidney had gone and we were parting for the night. She had been dancing about the room clicking, in imitation of castanets, her cherished gold pieces. "Is it not grand to be rich?" she cried. "How happy I am this night! I shall never be so happy again." She looked strangely prophetic as she spoke. She had not removed her riding habit, and, while dancing, she caught up gracefully the insubordinate skirt, which trammeled her exuberance. Floating about the room, she appeared unconscious of everything but the delights of her awakened body. Her feet and arms moved in an ecstasy of unrestraint. The abandoned sway of her agile frame caught naturally each modulation of the improvised castanets. "Come, dear Butterfly," I said, when she threw herself panting into a chair, her eyes shining with excitement. "Fly quickly to bed or the pretty wings will be weary for the hard, long to-morrow." "Oh, the beautiful to-morrow!" she cried, rapturously. "I will call the señora early--that not one moment of the precious day may be lost." CHAPTER XI. True to the arrangement, I heard the little bare feet patter across the hall to my door with the first gleam of the bright December morning. The Doña Maria had prepared an early breakfast, but Mariposilla could eat nothing in her excitement. The gold pieces were carefully counted into the little purse, and the deliberate Antonio was soundly scolded for his delay in bringing around the pony hitched to the old buggy, which I earnestly hoped would not fall to pieces short of the station. As we parted from the Doña Maria, she requested me to select a ready-made frock for Mariposilla, explaining that her daughter had been invited to spend a week at the East San Gabriel Hotel with Mrs. Sanderson. I was so astonished at the announcement that I could hardly conceal my surprise; but the Doña Maria not appearing to notice it, I replied that I would be happy to serve her; at the same time, I decided to take Marjorie and go myself to the hotel. Mrs. Sanderson had urged us to come repeatedly, and I felt that now the invitation was imperative. Mariposilla should not go to the Sandersons' alone. I had instituted myself her guardian, and I would protect her not only from her inexperience, but from unscrupulous attentions, selfishly bestowed.