"How Spanish that is! Perhaps you have one of those old Spanish plantations?" She had now exhausted all her knowledge of the State save a vague memory of her school geography: "Where are the Everglades?" "They are in the southern part of Florida. They are shallow lakes filled with trees." But the stranger could hardly live in such a place as that. "No," answered Rod; "my plantation isn't old and it isn't Spanish; it's a farm, and quite new. I am over here now to get hands for it." "Hands?" "Yes, laborers--Italians. They work very well in Florida." Eva and Mademoiselle Legrand had turned with Pierre to look at the magnificent sunset. "Did you receive the flowers I sent this morning?" said Pierre, bending his head so that if Eva should glance up when she answered, he should be able to look into her eyes. "Yes; they were beautiful," said Eva, giving the hoped-for glance. "Yet they are not in the drawing-room." "You noticed that?" she said, smiling. "They are in the music-room; Mademoiselle put them there." "They are the flowers for Mozart, are they not?" said Mademoiselle--"heliotrope and white lilies; and we have been studying Mozart this morning. The drawing-room, as you know, Monsieur le Comte, is always full of roses." "And how do you come on with Mozart?" asked Pierre. "As usual," answered Eva. "Not very well, I suppose." [Illustration: "'MRS. CHURCHILL, LET ME PRESENT TO YOU MR. DAVID ROD'"] Mademoiselle twisted her handkerchief round her fingers. She was passionately fond of music; it seemed to her that her pupil, who played accurately, was not. Pierre also was fond of music, and played with taste. He had not perceived Eva's coldness in this respect simply because he saw no fault in her. "I want to make up a party for the Deserto," he went on, "to lunch there. Do you think Madame Churchill will consent?" "Probably," said Eva. "I hope she will. For when we are abroad together, under the open sky, then it sometimes happens I can stay longer by your side." "Yes; we never have very long talks, do we?" remarked Eva, reflectively. "Do you desire them?" said Pierre, with ardor. "Ah, if you could know how I do! With me it is one long thirst. Say that you share the feeling, even if only a little; give me that pleasure." "No," said Eva laughing, "I don't share it at all. Because, if we should have longer talks, you would find out too clearly that I am not clever." "Not clever!" said Pierre, with all his heart in his eyes. Then, with his unfailing politeness, he included Mademoiselle. "She is clever, Mademoiselle?" "She is good," answered Mademoiselle, gravely. "Her heart has a depth--but a depth!" "I shall fill it all," murmured Pierre to Eva. "It is not that I myself am anything, but my love is so great, so vast; it holds you as the sea holds Capri. Some time--some time, you must let me try to tell you!" Eva glanced at him. Her eyes had for the moment a vague expression of curiosity.