“Oh, its my wife again. She has been treating me to another lecture.” “You poor fellow! So she is jealous? Well, I can’t blame her. I should be horribly jealous if I were your wife, you are so good looking, you know.” Some way, this last remark of the gay Miss Rosie Hastings did not please Mr. Howard, for, although he cared really nothing for his wife, he did not like the idea that Rosie Hastings should for a moment imagine herself as his wife. For much as he frequented that lively young person’s home he did not like her to assume too much. “But come,” she continued, “before the crowd gets here, lets you and I have a little music. I will play your accompaniments and you shall sing to me. I do so love to hear you sing.” Could it be possible Harry Howard had forgotten the conversation of not an hour previous, as he replied, “that’s a capital idea. I am just in the mood for a few songs.” One gay song followed another until the spacious rooms had begun to fill up with young men and women. There was an air of freedom about the young women which at once proclaimed them as not of the social set who feel the need of a chaperone. Dancing was soon begun and lasted well into the morning hours. Mr. Howard was one of those who seemed to enjoy the dancing immensely, notwithstanding the fact that he had told his wife that he cared nothing for that sort of thing. After her husband had left the house, poor Lucy went sadly into the room where her year old baby was sleeping. Throwing herself on her knees, she buried her face in the downy covering of the little sleeper, sobbing, “oh baby, you do not know how wretched I am. I wish I could die. Two short years ago I was so happy, but now what have I left in life besides you, my frail little pet.” CHAPTER XIII. How happily the day sped on, the weeks ran into months bringing no change to this flower embowered kingdom of the sea. Etta and Mabel spent their time in learning to weave the beautiful, soft mats, in the plaiting of which they grew very skillful. They also made for themselves large hats of delicate white bamboo. These drooping, broad brimmed hats, when surrounded by wreaths of natural flowers and placed upon their heads, gave the girls an exceedingly quaint and picturesque appearance. Their girl friends of darker color also made hats for themselves, as women of whatever land or clime, are ever ready to follow a caprice of fashion which appeals to their ideas of the beautiful or useful. The girls had also become interested in teaching their language to a large number of the young people of Nahua and learning in return, the soft, poetic tongue of their entertainers. They learned to sing the sweet songs of tender love that seemed to float on the fragrant air, for there was music and dancing continually, as this happy people gave expression to their feelings without restraint.