“We’ll stop at once,” decided Patty. “Poor old Tina, I didn’t realize I was keeping you up, and it does warm one up so to dance the _jota_ that I forgot you might be cold. I am a selfish pig. I’ll come right in, dear. _Buenas noches_, Tomás. _Muchas gracias._ It has been lots of fun, hasn’t it?” “Shocking! Awful badth form,” returned Tomás, laughing. Patty with a giggle of delight at the reply, ran in to find Paulette already fast asleep, and the house dark and silent. She, herself, however, was in no mood for slumbers. Her blood was tingling with excitement of the dance. She opened her window and went out on the balcony. The flowering branch set there that morning was withered and drooping. Patty looked at it thoughtfully. “Poor lad,” she murmured, “and he hasn’t two cents to rub together.” She leaned over the stone railing. Tomás was smoking a last cigarette before going to bed; the scent of it was borne upward with the odors from the garden beds. “It wouldn’t be so dreadful to live in Spain, to be near dear old Tina to--” Her meditations stopped short. Tomás was just below. She leaned over and dropped one of the flowers from her hair. Tomás caught it and looked up. “Shocking! Awful badth form,” said Patty mockingly, and disappeared within. In spite of a waking resolution to fix his thoughts unwaveringly upon the quiet Miss Moffatt, Robert Lisle felt himself unresistingly drawn toward the Estradas house the next evening. “I was lonely; I had to come,” he said as he shook hands with Doña Martina. “My dear man, you don’t have to make an excuse for coming. You know you are always welcome,” returned Doña Martina. Robert flushed up. “But I come so often,” he stammered. “Why shouldn’t you? Aren’t we birds of a feather who should flock together in a strange land? I’d feel very much hurt if you didn’t come often. The girls will be down directly. That witch of a Patty has some notion about going to the sea-caves to-night, a pretty rough walk, but there’s no doing anything with her once she sets her heart on a thing. She insists that she wants to visit the _inxanos_.” “And what are they?” “Here she comes; she will tell you.” “I’ve changed my dress and put on thick shoes, Tina,” the girl began. “Oh, Mr. Lisle, you must go, too. It is just the sort of thing you would like. We are going to see where the _inxanos_ live.” “I’ve just been asking about them. Who, or what are they?”