"She is tremendously in earnest, anyway," Sarella decided; "she can talk on _that_ eagerly enough. I must say," she thought, good-naturedly, "I _am_ glad _her_ father's giving her the chance of doing it. I had no idea she felt about it like that. She is good--to care so much and never say a word of what it is to her not to have it. I never thought there was an ounce of religion about the place. She evidently thinks her father cares, too. I should want some persuading of _that_. But she may be right in saying he expects me to go to his church. She is very positive. And some men are like that--their women must do what they do. They leave church alone for twenty years, but when they begin to go to church their women must go at once. And the Don is masterful enough. Perhaps he thinks it's time he began to remember his soul. If so, he is sure to begin by bothering about other people's souls. She thinks a lot more of him than he thinks of her. In his way, though, he is just as Spanish as she is; I suppose that's why I'm to go to Mass." CHAPTER XIII. Don Joaquin had sounded Mariquita with reference to Sarella's religion. It suited him to sound Sarella in reference to Mariquita--and another person. This he would not have done had he not regarded Sarella as potentially a near relation. "Mr. Gore talks about interesting things?" he observed tentatively. "What people call 'interesting things' are sometimes very tedious," she answered smartly, intending to please him. He _was_ a little pleased, but not diverted from his purpose. He never was diverted from his purposes. "He is a different sort of person from any Mariquita has known," he remarked; "conversation like his must interest her." "Only, she does not converse with him." "But she hears." "Oh! Mariquita _hears_ everything." "You don't think she finds him tedious?" "Oh, no! She does not know anyone is tedious." It by no means struck her father that this was a fault in her. "It is better to be content with one's company," he said. Then, "He does not find _her_ tedious, I think, though she speaks little." "Mr. Gore? Anything but!" And Sarella laughed. Don Joaquin waited for more, and got it. "Nobody could interest him more," she declared with conviction, shaking her head with pregnant meaning. "Ah! So I have thought sometimes," Don Joaquin agreed. "_Anyone_ could see it. Except Mariquita," she proceeded. "Mariquita not?" "Not she! Mariquita's eyes look so high she cannot see you and me, nor Mr. Gore." After "you and me" Sarella had made an infinitesimal pause, and had darted an instantaneous glance at Don Joaquin. He had scarcely time to catch the glance before it was averted and Sarella added, "or Mr. Gore."