It was a bright and glorious morning when she opened her window, the birds in the elms singing to the ever-rushing streams, and the breeze rustling amongst the leaves hinted a delicious coolness inviting to a ramble. She met Mr. Crowe strolling in front of the hotel smoking his early cigarette. Throwing this away, he advanced to meet her, and, in his most gracious manner, invited her to inspect the restoration of some Moorish baths which were going on close by. “These Moors,” said he, “value fresh air and water far more than their Christian successors. The old Eastern religions and the Professors of White Magic insisted on the most scrupulous cleanliness, while the Inquisition made the use of the bath a mark of heresy.” Mildred thought of some new bath experiments which her father had tried to prevent at St. Bernard’s; and could not help saying, with a tinge of maliciousness, “There are some uses of the bath which I think heretical, and would punish as severely as ever did Philip the Second.” Mr. Crowe remembered his old battle with her father on this question, but prudently declined to discuss medical treatment with any one but a doctor. Mildred, seeing he was getting huffy, did not press her point further. The physiologist was very severe on the old and cherished institutions of Catholic Spain, and did only partial justice to the authors of so many mistakes, whilst he was quite blind to the horrors being perpetrated in the name of Science now, and which a more civilized age, let us hope, will brand with equal infamy. “How long do you propose to stay here?” asked Mr. Crowe. “Really, I find it hard to leave; but we must not extend our visit beyond another day or two. What have we still to explore?” “You don’t want to make any ascent of the Sierra Nevada, do you?” “Oh, no; I fear it is too fatiguing. My aunt is not equal to camping out in the snow for a night, and I should not like to leave her. But we must visit the gipsy quarter; I am told it was much more interesting than that at Seville.” “I have not explored it, but shall be glad to do so. Shall we go to-day? I saw Rico, the gipsy king, yesterday, and he was anxious to do the honours of the colony, and make our visit pleasant.” “Very well, then. My aunt is anxious to go, I know. Will you arrange it all for us?” “Certainly. They say there is some risk of annoyance; but if you are not very fastidious, I dare say it is nothing very serious.” Mildred declared that she wanted to see everything that was Spanish, and had not crossed the Pyrenees to be stopped by trifles. So an expedition to the Sacro Monte was arranged for the next day, and the party, with a trustworthy guide, took a carriage for the trip. * * * * *