The simple device effected its purpose well. The front door was open and with a word to the servant I hurried past to the room where I thought I should find Sarita. I paused just a moment before opening the door, caught my breath hurriedly, and turned the handle and entered. She was there and alone, reading with her back to the door, and thinking probably that it was Madame Chansette she took no notice of my entrance. Then I perpetrated a very thin trick. "Ah, dear Madame Chansette, I come with grave news;" I got thus far when Sarita jumped to her feet and faced me with eyes flashing and cheeks a-flush. "How dare you come here?" she cried; speaking in English to emphasise more distinctly the gulf between us. "Sarita!" I exclaimed, as though in deep surprise; but I kept by the door intending to prevent her escape; and I feasted my hungry eyes upon her glowing beauty. "My aunt is not here, sir. You must have seen that for yourself the instant you entered. Why then this absurd pretence?" "Because I would ten thousand times rather see you than Madame Chansette; because I must see you; because—any reason you like. I am too delighted at having at last caught you to care for reasons. You have been avoiding me for many days. Why?" I replied in Spanish, but she kept to English, which she spoke with great fluency. "Because I do not wish to see you, Mr. Carbonnell. You will please be good enough now to go away." She spoke in her coldest and loftiest tone. "I desire to be alone." "No, I shall not go away without an explanation. Why have you avoided me purposely for all this time?" "I have given you the reason. I have had no wish to see you." "Thank you for your bluntness; but you must carry it a stage further and tell me why." "Certainly. Because on a former occasion you rendered your presence objectionable to me," she returned in the same cold, level tone. "I am going to be very rude and objectionable again, Sarita, and ask you not to tell half a truth and then plume yourself on having said something particularly disagreeable;" and I laughed. "I decline to accept that explanation. The truth is that you have been very angry with me, and I think your anger has lasted long enough—far too long, indeed, for relatives and such friends as you and I must be." "Insult is scarcely the badge which friendship wears," she exclaimed, changing to Spanish in her impetuosity. "Good. That’s a distinct improvement on your cold assumption of callous indifference. Whatever may be your real feeling for me, at least I am sure it is not indifference." "No, I have told you; you have made yourself objectionable to me," she flashed with spirit. "Because I told you I would thwart your wrongful intention in regard to the young King. I am still of the same mind." "I told you you were no friend of mine from that minute, and should never set eyes on me again," she cried, vehemently.