“We shall stay for a day or two in San Sebastian,” replied Doña Martina, “and then we shall go further along the coast to a place in the mountains or by the sea, whichever you choose to say. It is one of the old family houses of the Estradas, and the doctor thinks it will be an ideal spot to summer in. We have spent a little time there and he is so enthusiastic that I have become so, too. I hope you all will like it, Patty.” Patty looked over her shoulder rather ruefully. “What in the world can we find to do? Don’t tell me I shall not have a chance to air my Paris frocks.” “That is a small consideration,” said her sister. “We shall have such air as you never breathed. We shall see such scenery as will delight your soul, and we shall do things we never did before.” “What things?” inquired Patty, pulling down her belt and trying to look at the back of her trim figure. “Oh, we shall have a mountain pony or a burro to take us junketing around to all the neighboring villages; we shall go to all the fiestas, make a trip to Covadonga; visit all the old churches and monasteries; go fishing; take a daily dip in the sea if we like, and--What more do you want, Patty?” “Men,” replied Patty sententiously. “Well, there is Tomás.” “I didn’t say _a_ man, nor _the_ man; I said men. One man won’t go around when there are two girls.” “You want too much,” replied her sister. “However, I can’t say what you may find before the summer is over. I’ll venture to say if there is a desirable man within a radius of fifty miles he will pop out of a cave or from the sea when you come in sight; it is always that way.” Patty laughed. “Tell me about Don Tomás.” “I wrote to you all I know about him. Juan says he is a single-hearted unspoiled boy. Remember, Patty, that I have made my brother-in-law’s acquaintance only within the last few days, and Juan had not seen him for ten years till about a month ago. He was only fourteen when his brother left home.” “So he is twenty-four now. He is rather nice looking, but I didn’t know Spaniards ever had red hair. He might be an Irishman, or anything. I am disappointed that he hasn’t melting dark eyes and shining black hair.” “I should think you would like a contrast. You see dark eyes and hair every time you look in the glass, and that is often enough, heaven knows.” “You needn’t laugh, Polly,” said Patty, turning to Paulette, who showed her appreciation of this last remark by a gay little giggle. “There is one thing consoling about it: he may like contrasts, and unless he is already satiated with dark Spanish types he perchance will admire little Patty Blake.” “He hasn’t a penny; at least he has very little,” returned Doña Martina quickly. “That wouldn’t prevent his admiring me,” retorted Patty calmly. “I didn’t say I wanted to marry him offhand.” “You are a fleert incorrigible,” said Paulette, coming into the conversation.