In the great dining-room a lunch was spread, and as Patty prophesied, it was served from fine old plate, rare china and costly glass. At the close of the meal, Don Felipe begged the ladies to keep their coffee cups as souvenirs. “That you may not forget the old man who has been so honored by your presence,” he said. The coach with four black horses bore them home. Don Felipe, his _mayordomo_ by his side, stood on the steps to wave a last farewell. Patty looked back at the old gray palace, at the carved balconies, sculptured escutcheons and windows, around which clung blossoming vines. “I feel as if I were in a fairy tale,” she murmured. “Really, Paulette,” she added, “I am quite jealous, for I am sure you have the finest cup.” “No, Doña Martina has,” Paulette insisted, and so it proved to be. Don Felipe was nothing if not discreet in his attentions, and had tried to show no preference. “Though,” said Patty plaintively, “I did say he was tiresome when I meant to ask him if he were tired. I shall never get that frightful verb _Estar_ in the right place. It all comes of my trying to show off and compliment Don Felipe in his own language. I shall stick to French next time. I knew I should get into trouble with your stupid old language,” she continued, turning to Don Tomás. “I don’t see why one verb _to be_ isn’t enough for you anyway. I saw you grinning at my mistake.” The truth being that Don Tomás had kept a perfectly straight face, although it was impossible for him to hide the amusement in his eyes. “Don’t you think it was horrid of you?” Patty went on, as if the entire fault was due to Don Tomás. “Shocking! Awful badth form,” returned Don Tomás with an attempt at propitiation. Then, having wrung this from him, and raised a laugh at his expense, Patty was satisfied. “It is all nonsense to pretend that Don Felipe didn’t understand that you made a perfectly natural mistake,” Doña Martina told her sister. “I am sure your Spanish isn’t so correct at any time that he couldn’t see that you meant the other thing.” “Then I must redouble my efforts to learn,” said Patty calmly. “Tomás will have to devote more time to me.” So did she retaliate and was immediately in a better humor. “Who would ride in a motor car when one can set the whole population agog by dashing into town in this style?” said Doña Martina as the equipage rattled up the street and stopped before the _fonda_, the observed of men, women, and children. Matilda, pleased beyond measure at the honor, bustled out to meet her guests, the children of the neighborhood gathered in a group at a respectful distance, while the girls at the fountain paused in their task of scrubbing their buckets, to gaze at this display of splendor. Don Felipe’s coach was well known, though seldom did it stop at the door of any of the villagers.