"Oh, Chiquita," he said, softly, "I thought I'd NEVER find you. I've hunted everywhere." At the tremulous intensity of his tone, she gave an uncertain laugh and flashed him a startled glance. "Chiquita is not my name," she said, reprovingly. "Yes, it is; it must be. I can't think of you by any other. Hasn't it been whispering at my ears ever since you said it? It has nearly driven me mad." "Senor Antonio! I have seen you but once." "I have seen you every day, every hour-" "Indeed?" "I can't see anything else. Don't you understand?" "You forget that we have but just been introduced." "Don't be offended; you see, I can't realize that I have found you at last. When I learned you had gone away, I thought I would surely-" "I have been nowhere." "Didn't you go away on a ship?" "That is absurd! I have remained always in my father's house." "Then wait until I catch that boy of mine! Didn't you know I was looking for you? Couldn't you FEEL it?" "Indeed, why should I imagine such things?" "Why, if you couldn't feel a thing like that, you can't love me." "Of a certainly not," she gasped. "You should not joke about such things." "I'm not joking; I never was so serious in my life. I-I'm afraid I can't tell you everything-it all wants to come out at once. Why didn't you come back as you promised?" "It was Stephanie-she is such a ferocious person! I was brought to the city that day-but no, senor. I did not promise. I said only 'perhaps.'" "Have you done your penance?" "It was finished yesterday. This is the first time I have been out. Oh, it is delightful. The music-the people!" "And I can come to see you now?" "Very well do you know that you cannot. Have you not learned our customs?" Then, with an abrupt and icy change of tone: "I forget. Of course you are familiar with those customs, since you have become the wooer of Miss Torres." "Oh, Lord! Where did you hear about that?" "So! It is true. You are fickle, senor-or is it that you prefer dark people?" "I was looking for you. I thought it was you behind those curtains all the time." He began a flurried defence of his recent outrageous behavior, to which Miss Garavel endeavored to listen with distant composure. But he was so desperately in earnest, so anxious to make light of the matter, so eager to expose all his folly and have done with it, that he must have been funnier than he knew. In the midst of his narrative the girl's eyes showed an encouraging gleam, and when he described his interview with Torres and Heran their surprise and dramatic indignation, she laughed merrily. "Oh, it wasn't funny at the time," he hastened to add. "I felt as though I had actually proposed, and might have to pay alimony." "Poor Maria! It is no light thing to be cast aside by one's lover. She is broken-hearted, and for six months she will do penance." "This penance thing is a habit with you girls. But I wasn't her lover; I'm yours."