A plump willowy Spanish figure undulated behind the jury box, kissed the Bible reverently, and ascended the witness stand. Rosita was clad in black and yellow, a mantilla in place of a hat, and many diamonds. She looked as pretty and as naughty as possible. As she met Patience’s eyes, she wafted her a kiss, and the prisoner groaned in spirit. She gave her name and birthplace with melodious caressing accent and her marked precision of speech. Yes, the defendant had been her dear friend, her best friend, her only intimate friend. Yes, with unaffected reluctance, Mrs. Sparhawk had been disreputable, and Patience had once attempted her life. Yes, she was the prima donna of light opera known as La Rosita. Did she appear before the public in tights and scant attire? Yes, why not? Had she not had a number of lovers? Objected to and sustained. Flashing indignation of soft Spanish eyes. Did she not have the reputation of being a woman of loose and lawless life? Objected to and sustained. Angry rattle of fan. Was it not in her house that the prisoner was arrested? Yes, it was! and she loved her Patita and would always give her shelter. When the district attorney sat down with an ugly smile on his thin mouth, Bourke, muttering anathema, rose to his feet. “Was there ever a whisper against your reputation when you were a school-girl in Monterey and most intimate with the prisoner?” “No, _señor_!” cried Rosita, paying no attention to the objection. “I was a child, and could not even endure boys.” “How many times have you seen the defendant since you left Monterey?” Rosita cast up her eyes, then tapped the sticks of her fan successively as she spoke. “Once she came to see me just after—ah—WCTU died; then once just before she left Mr. Peele; then that day the ‘Eye’ came out and said she had done this so horrible thing. _Ay, dios!_” “She has called upon you three times only, then, since you were children in Monterey, since you have been the Rosita of the public; in the last five years, in short?” “_Si, señor_—yes, sir.” “How long did she remain upon her first visit?” “Oh, only a little while. I told her something that shocked her, for she was always so proper.” “What did you tell her?” “Objected to,” cried the district attorney. “Objection sustained,” snapped the judge. “How long did she remain on her second visit?” “About a half hour. I never knew what she came at all for. She just floated in and out.” Rosita waved her arm with enchanting grace. “Did she tell you why she came the third time?” “Because she had no other place to go to. She said no hotel would take her in.” “She said that her old landlady had refused to admit her, did she not?” “_Si, señor._” “Yes, yes!—and that in her terrible extremity she naturally turned to the friend of her childhood?” “_Si!_” and Rosita wept.