"Lucinda, come, and Alfreda, and all you girls," called Carmelita. "I have here a caballero captain who needs our attention. Señoritas doñas, come quickly." Directly they were all fluttering around Morando. Fathers, mothers, and dueñas paused in their conversation. "The soldier is captive," from Señora Moraga. "Let us see how the children deal with him." "The captive is little worried," commented Señor Zelaya. "As art thou, Pedro," said Higuera. "Thou hast thirty years and no wife. Thy heart should worry thee." The señoritas led the Captain into the ballroom, and halted under one of the chandeliers. "Will the Captain have gifts of gold and silver? Does the incense of friendship delight him?" asked Doña Carmelita. "Pleasant questions from a fair questioner, señorita." "Yes or no, Señor Captain," chorused the señoritas. "Yes, emphatically." A score of eggshells, filled with bits of silver and golden paper, were broken on his head and uniform. Not until the little baskets, expeditiously handed the girls by peonas, were empty did the bombardment cease. Those looking on laughed and applauded. "Brava! Brava! Captain," some one cried. "You are courageous." "Yes, yes, and calm in this baptism of fire," from another. "To a mirror! Let Captain Morando take view of the new uniform given him by the señoritas," a third. Young and old sportively crowded around Morando and pushed him in front of a long glass. He was spangled from head to foot with white and yellow sheen, all gorgeous over the dark background of his uniform. "A speech! A speech! Some word of thanks!" insisted the company. Silence was not easily found in that care-free gathering. Finally Morando could be heard. "Señoritas, and all my friends, I am happy to wear the colors that speak of sunrise. It is a double pleasure to receive such rare insignia from hands the fairest in the land." "A good word, Captain! A good word!" exclaimed Abelardo Peralta. "Not all your vigils are spent at the shrine of war." Señor Mendoza entered. "The musicians are idle. Motionless the feet of señorita and caballero. Why no dancing?" "The goddess of wealth has listened to Captain Morando," informed Pedro Zelaya. "The sweet odor of his gratefulness floats around. The rest of us wonder and envy." "Captain, turn the tables," from Mendoza. "Let not the señoritas bear all before them." To a peona, "Naomi, bring more eggs." The eggs were passed around by dainty basketfuls to the young men who singled out their lady-loves and generously bespangled them with the confetti which, moist from scented waters, clung where it fell. The señoritas, hair down their backs, flitted about like iridescent butterflies. Neither were they idle in egg-breaking. Demurely they would divert a caballero's attention, then quickly break a shell on his hair, coat or vest. The men soon shone in colors as resplendent as those of the señoritas. Perfume filled the air.